Red
by 22blue
Summary: Winner in the Beyond the Pale Contest. BxE, OOC, Rated M for mature themes and explicit content. "As she walked by, he imagined traces of her lipstick left on his neck… then his stomach and..."
1. Chapter 1

**Beyond the Pale Contest**

**Title: Red**

**Pen Name: 22blue**

**Characters: Edward and Bella**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight**

**Image that Inspired You: #9**

**To see other entries in the Beyond the Pale Contest, please visit the C2 page:**

**http:/www(.)fanfiction(.)net/community/Beyond_the_Pale_Contest_Entries/83159/**

**Warning: This contest is about pushing the envelope, what is taboo. The content of this one shot is explicit, deals with mature subject matter, and is not for everyone, so please, no flames**.

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Bella arrived at room sixteen-seventy-two one minute before her scheduled time to meet Edward. It was always the same time, always the same room, and Bella always wore red.

It had been Edward's request.

Months prior, when Edward first saw Bella, he'd been in a dimly lit bar with clients, swirling a half-full glass of Bowmore. The sound of the ice clinking against the crystal had been only as loud as the low murmurs of the patrons surrounding him. Edward was instantly drawn to Bella's full, red lips. As she walked by, he imagined traces of her lipstick left on his neck… then his stomach and thighs. He had recurring fantasies of scarlet remnants gracing his cock - even at the most inappropriate of times.

Bella noticed Edward as well – not immediately, though. She'd been at the bar to meet a client as well. It wasn't until Bella passed by Edward's table, her hand resting loosely in the crook of a gentleman's elbow, that she'd noticed the black, silk Armani suit he'd worn, and the expensive watch around his wrist. Bella's initial assessment of Edward was one that led her to fantasize of a Jaguar XK parked in her driveway.

It was Monday evening, 8 p.m., and Bella's delicate knuckles rapped softly on the door.

Bella thought about Edward during the time they were apart. She'd imagine she was fucking Edward when she was fucking someone else. There were still others she'd meet but not nearly as often any longer. Edward wanted her to be his. He'd doubled her exorbitant rate, and then he'd tripled it; she was worth it.

This was still not enough to purchase a Jaguar, though, and what would it mean if he was her only client?

She ran a business – one in which she excelled. She told herself time and time again she was not willing to give it up for the sake of being the possession of only one man.

Regardless, Bella wanted Edward.

She heard Edward's voice call from the other side of the door for her to enter, and so she did. Her red, silky dress was wrapped around her slim body and fastened only by a sash. It had a dramatically deep neckline and brushed against her thighs, showing the outlines of her long legs as she walked toward the center of the room. The neckline accentuated the curves of her breasts and small hips. She knew Edward would be pleased.

Pleasure, of course, was what Bella knew best.

Edward stood just feet away from Bella, wearing a charcoal suit, crisp, white shirt, and a claret tie. He smiled at her presence – Mondays had become his favorite day of the week.

Bella parted her scarlet lips, the tip of her tongue barely visible, she asked, "What do you want?"

As Edward cocked his head, he chuckled. "Week after week you ask the same thing. Do you not know the answer to that question by now?"

She knew he wanted to fuck her, but she didn't know how he wanted to be fucked. How could she possibly know if he preferred to start with a blow job or simply take her from behind?

"No, Edward, I can't read your mind. Would you care to enlighten me?"

The truth was, Edward had hoped, just as he always had, that Bella could read his mind. He would have paid one hundred times her amount if she could… maybe even more.

"I'd like you to undress me… slowly," he said.

Bella strode toward Edward, gliding the tips of her nails along his scalp once she reached him.

She loved the feel of his hair between her fingers, soft and thick and just the right length to pull when she came, should she be in the position to do so.

Bella touched the tip of her nose to Edward's jaw and inhaled; he'd recently showered. The scent of his soap was still strong on his skin. She slid her hands underneath his jacket, removing it slowly per his request, and let it fall to the floor.

Edward's hands went to Bella's breasts, and he was delighted to discover she hadn't worn a bra. Her nipples immediately became erect from the touch of his thumbs circling them.

"How do you want me?" Bella's lips barely touched Edward's ear as she loosened his tie.

"Under me. I want to fuck you hard tonight." Edward squeezed her tits, his erection apparent as she brushed her stomach against his crotch.

"Of course, Edward. Will you fuck me so hard I'll ache tomorrow?"

Bella wasn't taunting him; it was merely her request.

"Yes."

Bella removed Edward's shirt and trousers with minimal assistance, and he soon had Bella out of her dress – yet another delight for Edward was that she'd forgone panties as well.

Edward's physique was nothing less than striking. It was clear he took excellent care of himself, and Bella assumed he was a swimmer because at one time she'd detected the slight smell of chlorine in his hair. Edward was equally impressed with Bella's figure.

He also enjoyed the fact that his cock fit perfectly inside her tight, bare pussy.

Edward walked Bella to the bed, guiding her with his hand on the small of her back and holding her sash in the other. He'd already placed a few black, foil packages on the edge of the bed.

"Lie on your back and spread your legs."

She did, and he tossed her sash next to her.

"Touch yourself."

Again, she followed his command. Edward watched her as she spread her lips, flicking her swollen clit with her fingers. She dipped them in and out of her pussy while he stood at the edge of the bed and stroked himself.

"Now taste."

Bella had self-control but only with her few remaining clients. However, with Edward, her restraint was tested. His dominance over her, _only his_, elicited a fierce desire. Said desire had come in the form of several fantasies of his mouth replacing her fingers when she was alone.

The speed in which Edward stroked his cock increased; his grip becoming more firm - the sight of her pink tongue darting out of her full mouth and sucking the tip of her sodden finger roused his need to be inside her increasingly so.

He leaned toward her, anxious to taste what she already had and dragged his thumb up her slit - Bella shivered from the pressure. He smiled then licked her from his thumb.

"Do you see why I need you all to myself, Bella? Do you understand why I don't want another man touching and tasting your pussy?" Edward was sickened uttering those words. He detested the unbridled thoughts that rampantly entered his mind of Bella entertaining other men.

Bella shook her head, continuing to massage herself. Scraping her teeth over her bottom lip, she moved one arm and rested it idly above her head.

"Are you toying with me?" he asked, one corner of his mouth rising slightly higher than the other. "Because if you are… I _will_ cut our time together short."

If ever Edward had spoken a lie, it was in this moment.

"I don't want that, Edward," she replied, extending her hand to him.

"Say my name again," he demanded quietly, grabbing a condom before crawling on top of her. Handing it to Bella, she tore open the package and placed it on his cock.

Edward hovered only inches over her body; his hands supporting his own were placed on either side of her head. He savored the heat coming off her skin. He knew he caused this reaction and more: the heat, the goose bumps appearing on her flesh in the wake of his touch, the wetness between her legs. Edward was fairly certain she responded to no other the way she responded to him; her reactions to his touch couldn't be feigned.

This was true; it was only him.

Edward waited with heavy anticipation for Bella to repeat his name. Perhaps it was her smooth voice and the way his name rolled off her exquisite, silken tongue. Or perhaps, and probably more so, when she said his name aloud, Edward felt it confirmed his possession of her.

Again, he was correct.

"Edward."

With the tip of his tongue, Edward licked from the base of Bella's neck to the lobe of her ear and flicked the diamond studs she wore.

"Did I purchase these for you?" he asked.

"Yes."

Edward smirked. _You're fucking right I did. _

Edward blew a light stream of warm air along the slick path he'd left on her neck. Bella's breasts heaved, her nipples barely touching his chest, and she grabbed onto his wrists. His veins and tendons strained against his skin as he gripped the blanket tightly in his hands. She lifted her hips, desperate to come in contact with his length.

Bella's lips parted as Edward moved his head to face her. He could smell the mint on her breath, almost tasting the scent while she studied his piercing green eyes.

"How many?"

The corners of Bella's mouth turned up slowly. She replied, "Four."

He would make her come four times tonight.

He wrapped tendrils of her mahogany locks securely around his hand, and as he yanked, Edward thrust himself into her with one swift and powerful movement.

All else vanished the moment Bella finally felt Edward's cock enter her - she could only see _him_.

_Hear him… _

_Smell him… _

_Taste him… _

He consumed her.

Her muscles tightened around him each time he thrust his hips, and she clenched even tighter when he pulled back. Edward pounded into her harder and harder, intermittently tugging her hair. His actions were relentless and unforgiving, and Bella devoured it.

She craved Edward, willing to take his cock however he chose to give it to her – no part of her body was off limits. She grasped onto his back, feeling his muscles contract as she moved her hands to his shoulders then dug her nails into his flesh. Together, they moaned and grunted between ardent kisses, licking and sucking each others' tongues and lips.

Edward lifted his chest as he continued to fuck her, his eyes traveling from her mouth, down her neck, pausing at her tits then stopping at her cunt. She brought her knees up higher, noticing Edward watching himself move in and out of her.

"I own you," he said gruffly, returning his focus to Bella. Her plump lips were still red, but the scarlet lipstick was gone. Blood had risen to the surface of the delicate skin from their fervent kisses. "Say my name."

Bella gazed at Edward as she cupped her hands around his jaw, his stubble rough against her palms. His body glistened from perspiration, and his muscular arms held his place above her. She watched his pink lips twitch as he deepened his thrusts and his eyes darken as his breath quickened.

"Edward," she panted and brought his mouth to hers.

Edward felt Bella's body stiffen, her thighs press against his waist, and her fingers thread through his hair.

"Not yet," he said breathlessly, pulling his dick out of her. Edward leaned back on his heels. He dragged his hands down her inner thighs. "Stand on the floor and lean against the bed for me."

Bella rose; her breath ragged, and her hands trembling. "I don't like to be teased, Edward. I don't want to wait long," she said and took her position.

Edward stood behind her, gliding his finger down her spine. "You asked for only four. I assumed you wanted them to last."

She smiled and braced herself against the bed. Edward sunk to his knees, spreading hers apart farther with his hands. He licked and kissed the pale skin of her thighs, first the backs, and then the inside of each. He then brushed the tip of his nose along her ass and with the flat of his tongue, Edward licked her from her clit to her entrance.

She shivered.

He smiled.

Edward squeezed her hips, driving his tongue in and out of her. Bella moaned above him, gripping the blanket, clawing at the mattress. She swallowed, losing herself, bringing herself back.

Again, he smiled.

Edward reveled in the way her body reacted to him.

The power he had over her was equivalent to Bella's control over him.

He rose to his feet, gripping her hips and thrust into her once again.

A pleasurable shout escaped her lips.

Edward fucked her harder, and she yelled out once more. He leaned toward her, his chest touching her dampened back, and clutched her tit in his hand, kneading… squeezing… pinching her nipple.

Grasping Bella's forearm, Edward pushed it forward so they both fell to the bed.

He was so close, as was she.

"First or last?" he growled against her ear, deeply plunging himself into her then began to grind his hips slowly.

"First." Bella turned her head toward Edward, reaching for his face with her free hand, needing his mouth on hers. "Now," she said against his lips.

Bella released him, stretching her arm across the bed until her fingertips reached the sash from her dress and pulled it to them.

"You're impatient tonight." Edward pulled himself out of her, yet again. He needed to release soon, his cock exceptionally hard, almost painfully so.

Bella moved to the middle of the bed and swept her hair up with her hands after giving the sash to Edward. The throbbing between her legs was unbearable, and she briefly considered saying "Last" when he asked. But she couldn't. Bella wanted the euphoric pleasure now. She'd never allowed another man to satisfy her this way.

Edward knelt on the bed next to Bella and lifted her chin, admiring the fragility of her neck, tracing his fingers across it with feathery touches. He kissed her neck chastely, desperately concentrating on her and not the pain in his dick beget by his need to come. He then wrapped the sash loosely around the upper and lower parts of her delicate neck.

Bella let her hair fall over her shoulders. She lightly pulled the ends of the sash to hold it in place as Edward gently laid her down, ensuring she was comfortable with her head on the pillow.

"Say my name," she said, raising her knees once more.

Edward splayed out her hair along with the ends of the sash against the pillow as he knelt over her. The pace of his breathing increased as he dragged his hands from her shoulders to her thighs, goose bumps appearing from his touch. Edward wanted the anticipation of saying her name to last, the build-up of intensity to linger. It was not only for her but for him as well.

He kissed her collar bone, the swell of her breasts then moved to her hardened nipple, sucking it into his mouth then swirling his tongue around. He did the same to the other.

He continued to kiss her – along her ribs then stomach. Edward moved lower and blew circles over her cunt.

"Isabella," he whispered.

Bella jerked her hips, tugging lightly on the sash as Edward watched her, pressing the tip of his tongue against her clit once more.

"Don't," he said. "Don't pull."

Neither of them could wait any longer, and Edward positioned his cock at her entrance and slowly slid inside her.

Propping himself up on his forearms, Edward took the ends of the sash in his hands, pulling them tautly. Together they moved their hips, slower then faster as Bella reached above her head and grabbed the edge of the mattress.

He only heard her ragged breaths and his own deep grunts over his pulse thrumming in his ears.

Edward pulled harder, the sash tightening around her neck. He was on the edge of coming, struggling to hold his release at bay until she climaxed.

It was safer that way.

Bella's orgasm building, she looked into Edward's eyes, her mouth open, her jaw trembling and breathed out, "Now."

Edward pulled the sash, tightening it around her neck.

Slowly then faster, Bella simultaneously began to climax and lose oxygen, and now she could only hear her pulse throbbing in her ears. Her mouth widened, and she instinctively sucked in short, quick breaths. Bella dug her fingers into the mattress, her knuckles turning white. Her legs shuddered, her muscles constricted around Edward's cock, and her eyes fluttered as she peaked. She groaned loudly, but only heard the blood swooshing in her head. Edward tugged the sash more, bucking his hips in a forceful steady rhythm against her.

Bella's vision blurred, everything turning gray. Clenching her eyes shut, she saw white specks behind her eyelids. Still at the height of her orgasm, she opened her eyes again, seeing only the gray, fuzzy images of what she knew to be Edward above her. She floated and she fell, all senses vanishing - all but what she felt in the pit of her belly and between her legs which grew in strength. The beautiful intensity of her climax lasted for a fraction of a minute, and then the gray darkened to black.

Before she slipped into unconsciousness, Edward promptly slid his fingers underneath the sash, loosening it. Bella sucked in a gasp of air as he continued grinding his hips against her at a fast pace. He stared into her glazed eyes, wanting and loving her. He finally allowed himself to release.

He shouted expletives, hovering over her as he came in strong spurts.

Moments passed as their breathing returned to normal, their heart rates slowed, and Edward made certain Bella wasn't injured. He inspected her neck; it was tender and pink, but nothing time wouldn't heal.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" he asked.

Bella placed her hand just under her throat and nodded. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine." Her voice was soft, however, slightly hoarse. This was not unexpected by either of them.

She was exhausted yet content and laid her head on Edward's chest while he called room service. The tea with lemon arrived ten minutes later. As Bella sipped from the white cup, the warm liquid soothing her irritated throat, she wondered about the three additional orgasms she'd experience throughout the evening, knowing full-well that none of them would be as powerful as the first. Still, she looked forward to each one.

Edward lightly rubbed her arm and kissed her shoulder. "I'm going to turn on the shower," he stated. "Join me?"

They stood under the stream of hot water, caressing, touching, feeling each others' bodies, and Edward took her again.

Hours had passed after they showered, and during that time Edward had made Bella come twice more – just as she requested.

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Almost secluded in a corner of the restaurant, Edward sat at the round table with his wife of nine years as they celebrated his daughter's sixth birthday. His wife's focus was everywhere but on her family; she would scour the restaurant for a familiar face or casually glance at her manicured nails or watch.

Edward's daughter, seated gleefully between her mother and father, swung her feet back and forth as she quietly waited for her specially prepared cake to arrive. Her tiny hands were folded primly on her lap.

"Are you happy, angel?" Edward asked his daughter. He adored her. She meant everything to him. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep her safe.

"Yes, Daddy," she answered, looking up at her father with big, innocent eyes. Her father was her hero.

Edward smiled at her, smoothing his gentle hand over the bronze ringlets that cascaded down her back. She proudly wore the pink bow in her hair that Edward had bought for her that afternoon. She not only inherited the color of Edward's hair but also his green eyes. He was thankful she'd not taken after her mother in the slightest.

As Edward looked up, he was met with a pair of brown eyes.

Bella was seated not twenty feet away from Edward and his family. And she, too, was not alone. Edward could only see the back of the gentleman who sat at her table.

He didn't like it.

They held each others' gaze for moments - each of their hearts pounding - before Edward excused himself.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart." He addressed his daughter only. "One of daddy's clients is here, and I'd like to say hello. Will that be alright with you?"

His daughter nodded, his wife disregarded him, and Edward rose from the table and walked toward the bar.

A waiter approached Bella's table and set down a cup of warm tea with lemon. She opened the folded cocktail napkin the waiter carefully and cautiously placed next to the saucer and silently read the words scrawled on it.

_I am the only one who can make you come the way you need._

Bella searched for Edward, her acquaintance none the wiser, but saw him nowhere. For a moment, she hoped Edward might be waiting for her in a less public location in the restaurant, then dismissed her rash thought... it wasn't Monday.

She also knew Edward would have taken more than Mondays, however this was her rule: only one night per week. Bella looked at Edward's wife and daughter. He'd never confirmed he had a family; she assumed he did, though. They all did.

Bella watched his daughter, noticing her brown and golden curls, the simple gold ball-shaped earrings she wore. She noticed her subtle yet precise movements, the way she carefully cut into her cake with her fork. Bella thought how much the young girl resembled her father. As Bella looked at Edward's wife, the way she paid little attention to the girl, she surmised the woman was despondent and cold. Bella unknowingly smiled, thinking of how _she_ satisfied Edward, and how his wife would never be what Bella was to him. Still, a small and surprising ache presented itself in Bella's chest.

Excusing herself from the table, Bella approached Edward's daughter and wife. Politely, introducing herself as someone who couldn't help but notice the pretty little girl, she knelt next to the child and wished her a happy birthday. It was clear to Bella that it was the girl's birthday given the cake and present sitting on the table.

She asked Edward's daughter to hold out her hand.

Bella glanced at Edward's wife and said, "A beautiful girl should have beautiful things." Bella placed her diamond stud earrings in the girl's hand – the same earrings she'd purchased with Edward's money. She then gently folded his daughter's fingers over them.

"You're a lucky woman," Bella commented to Edward's wife then walked back to her table.

Edward had gone to the men's room to collect himself. He hadn't anticipated the anger that filled him, actually seeing Bella with another man.

When Edward returned to his table, Bella and the man she was with were gone. Edward hoped she ended her evening without hesitation after receiving his reminder; his reminder of the ecstasy that only he could bring her.

Edward's hopes were just that – hopes. Bella continued her engagement, but thought of Edward fucking her the entire night.

Monday morning arrived, and Edward received a message from Bella canceling their evening together. He was both furious and panicked. His panic, however, quickly diminished after listening to her message in its entirety. Edward was left with anger as he heard Bella's voice, stating she would be there the following Monday. Edward didn't know how he would get through a full two weeks without seeing her.

He'd never be a toy for her, and he would never accept being disregarded should she make other plans. Edward would need to ensure Bella was aware of this, and he'd do so in a way so that she'd never cancel an appointment with him again.

Edward would bring Bella the deepest rapture she'd ever experienced. He would take her to levels of euphoria she would have never imagined she could reach. Edward would fuck her in a way she'd never been fucked before.

He would make her his.

Seven days passed, and Bella arrived at room sixteen-seventy-two one minute before her scheduled time. Her delicate knuckles rapped softly on the door, and Edward announced for her to come in.

He stood stiffly on the opposite side of the room dressed in a black suit and claret tie. Bella wore a dark, red dress. It was so dark the color could have been mistaken for black had they been under different lighting.

Edward's jaw clenched then relaxed. He'd need to show Bella that she belonged to him, his cock growing hard from the thought.

She approached him slowly, carefully; Bella watched his eyes, his expression, so unsure of what he was thinking. She was slightly concerned with what might have been on his mind, and she wondered if he knew about the gift she'd given his daughter. As Bella walked toward him, she shed her clothing with ease, letting it fall to the floor.

Was he angry with her for not keeping their appointment the week prior? She thought, yes, he probably was.

Would he scold her, give her an ultimatum should she do it again? No, she thought, he'd never do that.

Bella touched Edward's chest, slipping her fingers through the opening of his shirt between the buttons. He was warm, and she moved the tips of her fingers around the sparse hair on his chest.

Edward's hand immediately went to her back, feeling her soft skin he moved his palm over her shoulder blades, then his fingers down her spine.

The tempo of his heartbeat quickened, taking in her warmth and her scent.

Bella placed a kiss on his stubbled jaw then turned, sweeping up her hair.

Edward looked at the back of her neck – his heart rate increasing even more. He loosened his tie, removing it from the collar of his shirt.

"What is this?" he asked in a hungered voice.

Edward snaked his hand around Bella's waist, pulling her to him. He traced his finger along the cambers of the red ribbon tattoo on the back of her neck.

"You," she replied.

She'd become his possession.

Edward pressed his lips against Bella's ear and whispered, "How many?" as he lowered his hand over her pelvic bone, then sliding his fingers along the slit her wet pussy.

Bella took Edward's tie from his other hand and held it against his cheek. She leaned into him, her nipples hardening as she inhaled his scent, and grasped onto his thigh with her free hand. Edward kissed her ear, her neck, and her lips. His mouth was warm, his tongue soft yet urgent. He rubbed his fingers against her clit at a slow and steady pace, and Bella pushed back against his cock.

Finally, breaking their kiss, she answered.

"One."

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A/N: Thank you for reading. Please visit the contest profile page for entry and voting dates, and if you're inspired by one of the twenty picture prompts you should enter.

Huge thanks to my beta and prereaders askthemagic8ball, sncmom, and katinki.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: SM owns Twilight.

Thank you to sncmom and askthemagic8ball for always stopping whatever they are doing to fix my mistakes. They have no idea how much they're appreciated. Also, thanks to yellowglue for prereading part of this chapter quite a while ago.

**I don't think this chapter needs one, but as a whole, I suppose this story needs a warning regarding dark themes. This was originally stated in the one shot as it was written for the Beyond the Pale contest (it won, btw – thank you!). That said, let's just give this puppy a blanket warning for what's been written and what's to come. If you don't like angst and prefer fluff, you probably shouldn't read **_**Red**_**. If you have triggers regarding suicidal themes, you probably shouldn't read this either. However, if none of that bothers you then please, read on.**

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She lay on her side, her back toward him, skin touching warm skin. His scent had faded through the hours, but it was still there, albeit faintly. His leg over her thigh, the room dark, Bella cocooned herself under the weight of the blanket and the weight of him. _Just a little while longer_, she thought – responsibilities and life and who she was buried for now.

It was quiet; the time of day was unknown. It was in this hushed ambiance she felt secure, so heavy yet so light. She dared to breathe, too afraid to disrupt this moment of quintessential heaven – one in which normal lovers would relish, come alive, and would thank God they had each other.

Just for a moment she felt whole.

Edward closed his arms around her, one around her middle and the other across her shoulders. He gave her a gentle squeeze.

_Don't wake, not yet, please, not yet_.

Bella turned her head, hardly a movement at all as she pressed further into the pillow. She hovered between sleep and consciousness, wanting so badly to stay in this dreamlike state. The breaths between them were slow, deep… hypnotic, the sound a white noise, and she wanted to drift.

Edward released her shoulder, only for a second, to slip her hair away from the back of her neck. His lips met her tattoo, kissing her flesh from one end of the ribbon to the other. "This means forever." His voice was barely a hoarse whisper.

Bella gripped his forearm and the outside of his thigh, pressing her body back closer to his. Edward tangled his foot around her calf and nuzzled his nose against the side of her neck. He held her tightly, coveting her as if it might be the last time. He'd come close to losing her the night before, and even though neither recognized her request aloud, he denied her, feigned a certain aloofness, and each fell into their respective roles.

His weight, their warmth, the calm between them… the silence, it was still there, the heavy and the light. Bella turned her head toward him, and he lightly nipped at her jaw, kissed the lobe of her ear, and then connected his mouth with hers. Languorous movements of their tongues swirling, tasting, feeling – no thinking, her mind was at ease. Edward's erection was prominent, and she wanted him to be inside her. And she needed, more than anything else, to be wholly and absolutely enveloped by him. They broke their kiss then angled their bodies for him to enter her.

The beat of Edward's heart was steady, strong, and how he cared about Bella was so much more than he'd ever thought it would be. Yes, he wanted to possess her, and yes, he desired her in the most erotic of ways, but now, in this moment, he yearned to be all that she'd ever need. Her softness, her supple skin, her smell… it would surround him and he knew, as he slowly moved his hips, filled her with him, this moment would not last forever. Edward would become enraptured in this fleeting time, this feeling of just him and Bella being all there was. He'd lose himself completely in her, and he'd pray she'd do the same.

Bella laced her fingers with his, shifting her hips up and back, moving her cheek along the top of his forearm. Edward pressed his forehead against her temple, long and quiet huffs coming from them both. Bella guided Edward's hand over her hip and down between her legs, pressing his fingers against her, wanting him to feel every physical part of her.

She turned her head to kiss him again – heated yet loving – and then she turned her body. She lay on her back, he cradled her head, they kissed, and they rolled their hips in a forbearing rhythm. Bella felt so heavy, so desperate, her chest feeling as though it would implode, her throat tightening, her eyes burning now. _Longer, please let this last longer,_ she silently begged.

Edward sucked in her bottom lip, his eyes clenching shut, surrounding himself by her warmth – he hadn't worn a condom, there was no barrier between them, nothing to keep them separate._ I want this always_, he thought, and a gravelly whimper rose from his throat. What he wouldn't give to feel her every day of his life. He kissed her again and again, gliding his nose along hers, pressing his forehead against hers, and she pulled him closer.

Bella hugged him to her then squeezed his hair between her fingers, hot tears filling her eyes as she felt the build, the rise of her orgasm. _No._

With his thumbs, Edward brushed away the dampness trickling from her eyes, her beautiful brown eyes that held his heart and soul. He whispered, "Shh," and his own tear fell onto her cheek. He felt her constrict around him, her thighs tightening against his sides, her heels digging into his thighs, and her fingers gripping at his shoulder and his back. He slid his arms around her, holding her as close as he possibly could while she came, fighting off his own orgasm. Bella sobbed as her peak lessened and his rose.

As Edward stilled, unable to hold off any longer, he shifted his arms. He held her face in his hands, his forehead against hers again, his eyes closed again; he felt ecstasy and at the same time, a profound weight in the pit of his stomach.

Neither would look at the other. If they had, they'd be forced to acknowledge their quintessential heaven had ended, and the jolt of reality would be too much to bear.

Bella moved her hand, pressing her palm to Edward's chest, keeping the other around his back. Edward rested his cheek against hers and inhaled, filling his lungs and his memory with her scent. He kissed her temple, tasting the relics of her salty tears.

"Stay," he pled. "Stay with me."

She crinkled her forehead, his request so painful, so impossible, she shakily responded, "No," barely able to utter the word.

And thus the end of her dream; she'd awaken to her hell, only to immerse herself into her façade – one of impenetrable steel; one she created so long ago.

"I'll take the day off," he pressed.

"No. I have… something to do." She tugged at the hair on his chest.

The weight in Edward's stomach traveled upward, lodging itself in his throat. His lungs burned. Would he cross the line, step into her private world? He would to save her.

Hesitantly, he asked, "A client?" For the first time, Edward would fathom Bella being with another man if it meant she wouldn't harm herself. Their circumstances were so erroneous, so very fucked up.

"Yes," she lied. Neither loosened their hold of the other, and she tilted her head, touching her cheek to his shoulder and her nose to his neck. She could go home, drink her wine – a bottle, maybe two – and swallow a few pills. Her death would be a quiet one, no fanfare, no extraordinary measures; it would go unnoticed, except by Edward. But he had his daughter and a wife, and Bella could never be normal for him. She could never fulfill his life because she was broken beyond repair.

Today would not be that day, however. No, Bella would suit up in her armor and mechanically follow her routine. She would go to the gym, confirm her schedule for the remainder of the week and meet her appointment to have her hair trimmed and lo-lighted. And at the end of the evening, Bella would go to sleep with the aid of only one pill and a glass filled just half-way with wine – a chardonnay or perhaps a pinot. Assuredly, Bella would sleep soundly and dreamlessly tonight. Tomorrow was always easier if she'd put herself in the right frame of mind.

Edward lifted his head and looked into her eyes for truth. They locked their gaze onto each others' for several moments.

"I'd die without you," he admitted quietly. He wasn't above using guilt; he loved her. Oh Christ, how he loved her; a piece of Edward would literally die if he lost her.

Yet he couldn't force her into his world – his world where he dedicated himself to the success of his corporation and every other waking hour to the happiness of his daughter. The exception, of course, was the time he spent with Bella on Monday evenings.

Bella forced a small smile – reassurance for his sake. She shook her head, tracing one finger down and around his nipple.

There was no fairy tale ending, and Edward was not a knight who would ride in on a white horse. For Bella, this didn't exist. She tortured herself week after week by allowing him to touch her, by giving in to her irrepressible desire and need to feel the tiniest semblance of love. Still, Bella had tried to permit herself to accept that she might be deserving of something more than the life she led, but she failed - every time. The incessant voice inside her head and heart had told her she'd never be like other women; this voice became so much louder after she'd met Edward. It wasn't so much that she felt Edward was better than her. That wasn't it at all – Bella simply wanted to be whole, for Bella. She admitted this much to her therapist, and after years of meeting once per month with the good doctor, no matter how long the session or which approach was used, Bella's acceptance of her fate was just that – acceptance. It changed nothing.

Bella took Edward's words to heart. She wouldn't leave him… for now.

"I'll see you next week," she promised.

,,,,,,

The redundancy of the days passed with and without regret, and soon, October had turned into November. Bella and Edward kept their weekly engagement, and the rules stayed the same; she wore red, and he brought her to the height of the type of euphoric pleasure that only he could. But the more they were together, the love they felt for one another had grown, thus the ache increasing when they had to say goodbye.

Consuming thoughts of Bella had spilled over into Edward's every day life. He'd always thought about her, but now he so badly wanted to be able to replace the ridiculously obligatory picture of his wife that sat on his desk with one of Bella. Edward was not deluded to think he and Bella would ever be together in a socially acceptable way, however, he wanted more. Edward had hired a private investigator to watch over Bella, terrified she might not keep her promise to see him again. For a moment, he questioned his own sanity and his compulsion toward her. He'd considered persuading her to seek help - he wanted her to be better, to be safe. Yet, would it have seemed condescending of him if he'd done so? And, selfishly, if she were to get better, would she leave him?

Decidedly, Edward would take care of her. He'd give her what she needed; he'd give her as much of himself as possible because he could not be without her.

The dull ache in Bella's chest and stomach was ever present; the added clientele hadn't diminished the pain. She'd fill her week with men, blindly screwing them, robotically satisfying their requests. She'd return home to take scalding showers. No matter how much the water stung, Bella would stand under the scorching pressure as the rivulets hit her like a thousand needles, willing the ache to disappear. She'd often wish as she stepped out of her bathroom that Edward would be sitting on the edge of her bed to surprise her. But then what? After the excitement of his surprise was over, he'd need to leave anyway.

She knew Edward was having her followed; the ill-fitting man hadn't been very good at hiding himself as he seemed to pop up in the most arbitrary places, but then again, Bella had always been acutely aware her surroundings. Bella wondered if Edward intended for her to know, still, neither mentioned anything. As time went by, Edward texted and left messages for Bella more often; most she ignored, but to some she replied. His subtleties were endearing. She hated it. It ruined their relationship. Ruined because she loved him, and she wanted him, but in her mind he now regarded her as weak, and she loathed the combative push and pull within her heart and head.

It became too much.

Bella didn't look at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Instead, staring down into the prescription bottle, she gave it a little shake, ensuring there were enough pills. There would be no letter, no explanations. A few nights prior, when she and Edward were together, she hadn't said goodbye to him either, nor had she made any promises. It wasn't something she needed to plan according to her calendar; she didn't know when the moment would come as to when she couldn't take it any more.

Bella poured a glass of wine then got into bed. By the third glass, she was sobbing uncontrollably, sharp, wretched pains stabbing at her stomach and chest. She hated her memory; the flashes of the past sneaking up on her in the few moments she felt strong, human, and reminding her of who she was: nothing of importance, someone's secret.

That's all she'd ever be.

Her heart slowed as did her breathing. The last thing she felt was the nausea in her stomach and the dizzying weight of falling.

,,,,,,

"You can't be here, sir!"

"Don't you fucking tell me where I can or cannot be," he growled. "Get the fuck out of my way… now."

"Sir! I'll have to call security if you don't leave." She steeled herself in front of Edward. It didn't matter that Edward towered over her; she was not intimidated by him. "Only family members are permitted."

Edward stepped back, one hand forcibly raking through his hair, the other on his hip. His eyes were swollen, bloodshot, and his face was stained with tears. "I _am_ her family!" he screamed desperately, earning wide-eyed looks from other staff members. The nurse shook her head at another who silently offered to call security. But Edward hadn't noticed the exchange – all he could see through the tempered glass window was Bella lying lifelessly in the hospital bed. "Please," he begged, his voice cracking. "I'm all she has."

Quick footsteps preceded a deep, husky male voice. "Edward?" asked the man, both shocked and confused to see Edward in this part of the hospital in this abnormally feeble condition, let alone seeing him at all. The man grabbed Edward's elbow and led him away from the nurses' station, away from his view of Bella. "What are you doing here? What's going on?" His Spanish accent was heavy, and he cast a look of deep concern upon Edward.

"Gabriel," Edward started, disregarding the fact the two men hadn't seen each other in years. The last time Edward and Dr. Gabriel Reyes had spoken was during one of Edward's father's Christmas parties. Gabriel and Edward's father, Carlisle, were close friends and colleagues. Gabriel was also Edward's godfather. Edward gave a quick nod toward Bella's room, "Bella Swan, is she your patient?"

Gabriel, just as tall as Edward, yet broader and more muscular, looked into Edward's eyes. He studied his godson curiously, silently taking in the dark circles under his eyes, his red blotchy face, and his unkempt clothing. Gabriel retreated back to the nurses' station and spoke a few quiet words to the redhead sitting behind the counter, her eyes flickered toward Edward cautiously, and then she handed Bella's chart to Dr. Reyes. Gabriel tucked it under his arm and motioned for Edward to walk with him down the sterile hallway. It was particularly early in the morning, and the halls were nearly abandoned save a custodian and a nurse or two going about their routine. "How's Gwen?" Gabriel asked of Edward's wife as the two strode down the hall.

Gabriel's words were intrusive and shockingly bold. Now was not the time. Clenching his jaw, nostrils flaring, Edward stared straight ahead at the white double doors, a lighted red 'Exit' sign above them; he refused to answer.

"Alright, then." Gabriel halted, clutching Bella's chart in both hands in front of his stomach. Edward stopped walking and turned to face Gabriel. "Yes, I will be in charge of Miss Swan's care… Edward, I can't share-"

"Is she going to be okay?" Edward interrupted, sweeping his shaking hand over his face; he rubbed the heel of his hand against his brow.

Gabriel nodded. "Physically, yes." Edward inhaled sharply; Gabriel pursed his lips. "I gather the two of you are… _close_?"

Through the silent minutes that passed, Edward deliberated how little he would need to admit in order to gain as much information from Gabriel as possible. He'd also need to convince Gabriel to allow him visitation as Gabriel, from what he remembered, had always been a stickler for rules.

Finally, Edward, with trepidation, answered as he rubbed the back of his neck. "She's special to me… Bella is a, um," he swallowed nervously, "she's an important part of my life."

The wrinkles in the corners of Gabriel's dark brown eyes deepened as he squinted, staring at Edward while he took a moment to surmise the dilemma he now faced. For Edward was his godson and as far as Gabriel was concerned, Edward was blood; family would always prevail over the Hippocratic Oath. However, would it be wise to encourage Edward's extracurricular activities? Gabriel never thought Edward was happily married, nor had he cared much for Gwen and the stiff way she carried herself or mothered Edward's daughter, but he'd never condone infidelity.

Regardless of Gabriel's personal feelings, his first priority was to his new patient, Isabella Swan. Questions circled his mind about her, the standard ones that is, yet no matter how many attempted suicide cases he'd been presented with Gabriel's stomach churned. He wondered just how big of a role Edward had played in her decision. He placed no blame on Edward, though; he was sympathetic. _It could have nothing to do with him_, he hoped, prayed, but Gabriel had been a psychiatrist for well over twenty years. _Who am I kidding?_ In this moment, he wished he had chosen a different specialty.

Gabriel extracted his reading glasses from the breast pocket of his white coat. After sliding them over the bridge of his nose, he flipped open Bella's chart. He read the results of her lab work once more, this time more carefully. He read the notes written by Maggie, the redheaded nurse, which essentially stated the staff had been unsuccessful in their attempt to contact a family member or otherwise – there were no telephone numbers in which to reach anyone; Bella did not have a record on file with the hospital.

Snapping the chart shut, Gabriel removed his glasses then smoothed back the thick strands of black hair that had fallen over his eyes. Edward noticed the additional streaks of silver his godfather had gained over the past couple of years. Perhaps it was because the threat of someone whom he loved so greatly dying was so prominent in his heart; Edward wished he'd made more time for Gabriel.

"Five minutes, Edward. It's all I can give you for now."

As if he'd held his breath the entire time Gabriel reviewed Bella's chart, Edward blew a strong burst of air, then nodded once in appreciation.

His legs felt weak when he reached the door of Bella's room, as if he'd run a marathon, even though it'd taken just a minute to return to her. Edward's heart beat spastically as he gripped the handle, and he thought he might vomit. Once inside her room, Edward took in her frailty, so evident to him now. He cursed himself for thinking he could actually protect her by hiring an absent babysitter. Even more so, Edward hated himself for not loving Bella harder. She'd have known then, if Edward hadn't pretended as though it was okay for her to see other men, she'd have known he'd loved her and maybe - probably - she wouldn't be lying here now. His head throbbed, his inner voice screaming profanities at his stupidity and ignorance.

Edward took her hand in his as he knelt by her bed. He lightly kissed her knuckles, and then his vision blurred from his tears. With his free hand, he gripped the hem of the sheet hanging loosely off the side of her bed, and he pressed his forehead into the edge of the mattress. His face wet with tears and mucus, over and over again he rasped, "I'm sorry."

* * *

a/n Thank you for reading. This won't be a long fic, and I'm not sure how frequently I'll post. I have two other fics in the works which I haven't updated since the summer. I took a nice, long break from writing and a small one from Twilight altogether. It was nice, but I missed it. Anyway, I'm glad to be writing again, and thanks to all who still want to read regardless of my sporadic updates.

I did a Twitter poll last night for names to use for Dr. Reyes - Twitter is so much better than Google at times - so, thank you to mskathy, choclover 82, morethanmyself, eli_21, UNF4Pellan, squarrell, and tyra for giving me suggestions. 3


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: SM owns it all. :/

As I've stated before, some things about this story may bother some people.

* * *

A small smile: encouraging, sympathetic, inviting? No, the smile on the doctor's lips was _welcoming_, alerting her she was back among the living.

"Hi, there," he said quietly, glancing up from the chart while he finished scribbling whatever discoveries, notes, or thoughts he felt necessary to enter into Bella's file.

Bella's mouth was dry, her lips tight, and her skin clammy. Her head felt as though it weighed a thousand pounds. She didn't say anything; she simply stared at him and the ID badge clipped onto his white coat which read _Gabriel Reyes, M.D.._

Numbly, she watched him as he walked toward a small table stationed at the far side of the room; everything seemed to move in slow motion, a haze. Bella watched as he pocketed his pen, set down her chart, and then grasped a blue plastic pitcher. He poured water into a Styrofoam cup, and she watched his profile, the corner of his eye wrinkled as he squinted momentarily as though he was in deep thought or troubled by something. She watched every slight or decisive movement he made because it was so much better than otherwise coping with her present situation.

"Thirsty?" he asked, offering her the drink. She declined.

Bella waited through his introduction and his telling of her current physical condition, and that she'd be moved that day to a private psychiatric hospital. She showed no surprise and simply inquired for how long. She didn't bother asking who'd found her, it could only have been one person. The thought of facing Edward after he'd seen her, acknowledging what she'd tried to do was…

A myriad of feelings shot through her: shame, anger… loss.

She pushed further into her pillow, and her tears began to fall.

"That's a little more complicated, I'm afraid," Gabriel answered and pulled a chair next to her bed. He sat then rested his hand over her forearm.

_**/**_

_**Three days later**_

"Are you comfortable here?" Gabriel asked, sitting opposite Bella.

"Not really."

"I can't allow you to go just yet."

"I know. Fourteen days, danger to myself. I know."

"I spoke with your therapist, and he-"

"Told you I'm an extraordinary case? Perhaps I was a success story?" She laughed darkly. "That I manage quite well given the circumstances? Yes, I know."

"Do you think you do?"

"What do you think?" Bella tugged at the hem of her pants, her legs curled underneath her.

"I'd say no."

"Well, there you go then."

"I don't like to play games, Isabella."

"Neither do I, Dr. Reyes."

He gestured with a subtle tilt of his head for her to continue, for her to explain herself.

"You should know - believe me or don't, that's up to you – Edward had nothing to do with the reason for me being here. And after going through all the bullshit to get to the root of my manic depression, you'll only tell me how I was the victim, how it wasn't my fault ad nauseam, but the truth is, it doesn't change a thing."

"I wasn't planning on taking that route, but since you brought it up, Isabella, it _wasn't_ your fault – you were just a child. And, for the record, after speaking with you over the past few days, you don't strike me as the type of woman who would want to commit suicide because of her lover. That's just an educated guess, of course. But you are, undoubtedly, incredibly sad, and I don't believe it has to be that way, at least not all of the time. And certainly not so severely it would bring you to the point of no other form of escapism other than death."

"I've accepted how things will always be for me, Doctor."

"Do you think you deserve to live like this?"

"Am I deserving? I have no idea. You just have to play the cards you're dealt."

"I see. Well, Isabella, if you don't mind me being candid, that's a load of shit."

Bella, a little surprised by Dr. Reyes' lack of guile, raised her brow slightly. "Are you always so _frank_?"

Gabriel chuckled then rapped his fingertips against the arms of his chair; he sat further back, the leather crunching from his movement. "Yes, I am." He paused momentarily. "But some would call my methods… unorthodox."

Decidedly, the remaining days Bella was lawfully required to remain under psychiatric observation in the bleak setting of the hospital would be nothing more than a waste. If Gabriel treated Bella as he would any other patient, he would speak with her regularly, require her to spend time in group therapy, prescribe anti-depressants, all the while hoping for some sort of breakthrough. But Bella was not just another one of Gabriel's patients - presumably, she'd play along with his methods whether honestly or not – and he couldn't help but feel something for her. Perhaps it was simply because Bella was his godson's lover. Even more so, she was the center of Edward's world; it didn't take long for Gabriel to come to this conclusion.

Edward called Gabriel daily, insisting on progress reports, begging for permission to see Bella. Though it wasn't Gabriel who denied him, it was Bella, and he could see, in those first few days, how it tormented her to refuse Edward. Gabriel easily noted the anguish in Edward's voice and in his face when they met for coffee one afternoon. That same afternoon, Gabriel had told Bella what his relationship was to Edward; she privately declared conflict of interest and demanded another doctor. A few hours later, however, she rescinded her request, and Gabriel knew she'd use him to maintain her connection with Edward.

More days passed, and the sessions between Bella and Gabriel had grown comfortably stagnant. Despite the developed ease they'd felt with one another, her progression wasn't where he wanted it to be. She answered all of his questions correctly, followed his orders… took her meds. Still, Bella was only a shell – her glazed eyes showed no depth, no warmth.

What Gabriel didn't know was that at night, Bella would fall asleep with the light on. It was a feeble attempt to drown out thoughts of Edward and what would never be that so violently penetrated her heart and mind. During the day, she lived among her psychotic peers, following routine after daily, mundane routine. She'd made plans, though, even through the fog in her brain. Once released, she'd pack only things she'd need in the immediate future and relocate. Idealistically, she'd go to another state or perhaps, and even more inviting, another country. She'd entertained romantic notions of speaking through gestures until she familiarized herself with the language as she purchased baguettes in a café while people drank wine in the middle of the day or bartered the price of an exquisitely made handbag on a bustling street corner – she would yell in her native tongue while the merchant appropriately returned the tone back in his own. That was as far as her plans had gotten, though; she couldn't see any further than the instant thrill of something new, a temporary distraction. Because the few times her mind had wandered further, albeit fortuitously, she'd buy a loaf of freshly baked bread or a silk handbag, and the fantasy played out until Bella saw Edward's smile when she showed him her purchases.

Bella so desperately wanted to touch Edward, feel his skin and his warm breath against her cheek.

She missed him.

She wondered if Gabriel detected any of this when he mentioned Edward the two or three times over the course of their sessions. She wasn't entirely sure of how concealing her mask was no matter how hard she had tried to preserve it.

It was just twenty-four hours prior to Bella's release from the hospital when Gabriel entered her room. It was unseasonably cold; Bella lay on her side, watching tiny snow flurries dance and swirl outside her window. Gabriel walked toward the window, crossed his arms and leaned back against the sill as Bella sat up and ran her fingers through her hair, then clutched the edge of her bed. She cast her eyes downward, first crossing her left ankle over the right and then back again.

"I have a daughter a few years younger than you. Have I mentioned that?" he asked, cocking his head.

"No."

"She's stubborn. You remind me of her."

Bella nodded, her eyes quickly flickered toward the thick silver band on his left ring finger.

"Do you want to go home tomorrow?"

Bella was surprised her immediate reaction was not "Yes," rather she wasn't sure how she felt about going back to her apartment. She remained focused on a fleck of gray in the deep blue carpet of her room and answered, "Mm hm."

He sighed audibly, shifted his stance and slid his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I don't think you're ready, Isabella."

She clucked her tongue. "Ready or not, you're not required to keep me here any longer."

"This is true." Gabriel's accent was heavier than normal; Bella noticed this happened when he seemed aggravated by a response she'd given him. "I have an offer, if you're open to it, and one that could possibly cost me my license." He huffed out a laugh.

Bella looked at Gabriel. In the gray light coming through her window, her sallow complexion appeared even more pallid, and the circles under her eyes darker.

"I'm scared for you. And it's not that I don't trust _you_, Isabella, I don't trust your surroundings."

Bella furrowed her brow, confused.

"I'm afraid if you go back to your normal routine… your profession, well, I don't think… I want you to take a break for a while."

Bella closed her eyes in annoyance, and shook her head.

Throughout the past two weeks, Gabriel hadn't once suggested she give up what she thought she did best; he didn't have enough time to argue with her.

"And do what?" she asked. "Hole up in my apartment and learn to crochet? Maybe get a cat and spend my days reflecting? Or would you suggest I get a _respectable_ job and become an upstanding member of society?"

"Not exactly." Gabriel reached in his pocket, pulled out a key then tossed it to Bella. "I have a home a few hours from here. I like to go there on the weekends; it's quiet, peaceful. Take it for a while." _Say, yes, Isabella. You can trust me._

Bella rubbed the bronze key between her thumb and index finger. "Why? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing. You need distance."

"Do I?" she muttered still staring down at the key. Bella looked back at Gabriel, her eyebrow cocked provokingly. "Do you do this for all your patients?"

He shook his head then brushed a thick, black lock of hair away from his eyes. "No. _Believe me_," he said, his eyes grew wide in mock horror. "It's like I told you earlier; you remind me of my daughter. And we can have our sessions there – but only if you're comfortable with that." He spoke quickly through the latter, confirming she had control.

"How do you know I won't rob you blind?" she joked. She didn't smile yet her humor was sincere, and it felt good.

Gabriel grinned and scratched the back of his head. "I have lots of insurance, so it wouldn't be a problem."

"How do you know I won't report you for unethical practices?" she asked.

"Do you feel you should?"

Bella looked into Gabriel's eyes; they were honest. She found that she trusted him, so much more than she thought would. She wanted to ask if Edward had anything to do with Gabriel's offer, but thought otherwise. Isn't that what he meant by distance? To get away from everything in her life, including Edward?

"I'll think about it," she said and placed the key on the nightstand.

"Good."

As Gabriel walked toward the door, Bella asked, "You really are unorthodox, aren't you?"

He chuckled then closed the door behind him.

**/**

Bella had taken two wrong turns before she finally found the address Dr. Reyes had given her. The British female voice of her GPS failed miserably when it came to unmarked roads. She wasn't surprised by this; Bella only kept the instrument on as a means for one-sided company during the three-hour drive. _Maybe__ I am a little crazy_, she thought sardonically.

As she stepped inside Dr. Reyes's weekend home, she inhaled. Bella took a deep, sobering breath; the staleness with subtle notes of lemon furniture polish was oddly comfortable to her. It was nondescript, unidentifiable as the home of her psychiatrist. How should it have smelled? A mixture of rubbing alcohol and potpourri like the hospital? Or perhaps dust and leather. Bella shook her head and made her way to her assigned bedroom: up the stairs, second door on the left.

There was nothing grand about the home, yet it gave no impression of simple modesty either. All cherry wood floors and cabinets, lush carpeting in the bedrooms – she peeked, through all five of them - oversized furniture, and thick, richly colored textiles. There were pictures, mostly black and white prints, but some with color, hanging objectively on the pale blue painted walls. Gabriel had promised there would be enough food in the refrigerator to last a few days, and there was. How or when he'd brought in fresh fruits, vegetables, and meats she wasn't sure, but it was there, waiting for her to do with as she pleased. He also promised he'd come to the house the following day and from there they'd work out a schedule.

Bella walked into the living area: a television, a fireplace, some books and magazines, and double French doors that led to a small stone patio. There were several pictures sitting atop the wooden mantel, mostly, what she assumed, to be family pictures. She focused on none, searching for a picture of Edward - one of him in his youth, but there was nothing. She wondered if there had been and if Dr. Reyes had any evidence of Edward removed when he had the refrigerator stocked. She also wondered why he was going to such trouble for her. Bella picked up a gold-framed picture of a young woman; surely this was his daughter. The woman resembled Dr. Reyes with her light olive skin, black hair, and deep, honest eyes. Bella didn't see a picture of Dr. Reyes's wife, however. What _did_ Mrs. Reyes think about Bella being in her vacation home? Did she even know? Bella had never been concerned with men's wives before, why should she start now?

Opening the French doors, Bella shivered from the cold breeze. She stepped out onto the patio, hugging her sweater tightly around her. The sun had just set, and the lines of the trees were becoming blurred. As Bella looked to her left, she saw a triangular, glass structure; a soft white light bounced in waves off its transparent walls. She walked down the stone pathway, curious to see what it was. Once she was feet away, she discovered the building housed a pool and was attached to the house by an enclosed breezeway. Bella dared to continue and step inside, but as she gripped the door handle, she stopped. Edward was a swimmer. She'd known this from his skin smelling faintly of chlorine every so often.

Bella returned to the house, her head tilted down the entire way. She wasn't hungry, but she stir-fried strips of chicken with rainbow peppers and yellow squash if for no other reason than to have something to do. Dr. Reyes had a nice selection of wine; she chose a Sauvignon Blanc. As she washed and dried her dish and utensils, she wondered what the hell she was going to do in this isolated house over the next few weeks.

The front door creaked open loudly, followed by an apprehensive knock. "Hello? Isabella?"

His voice was unrecognizable, and Bella froze, wide-eyed and minutely concerned. She hadn't used her voice all day, and as she attempted to clear it, to answer the stranger, she heard his footsteps coming closer.

Bella backed around the island, putting it between her and the stranger who knew her name. She tightened her sweater around her; the sleeves were long and covered her hands. She ticked off possibilities of who this person was as she saw him peek around the corner: the doctor's assistant, a neighbor… who the fuck knows.

"Um, hi. I didn't mean to frighten you, and I'm so sorry if I'm bothering you, but," he held a brown shopping back in his hand and pulled out a four-pack of toilet paper. "I completely forgot to pick this up today when I got the groceries, and figured you might need to use the bathroom at some point. There might be tp already - there probably is, but I'd be up all night worrying that there wasn't."

Bella stared at the man expressionlessly, picked up her wine and drank what was left in the glass.

"Sorry," he said, walking toward Bella and extending his hand. "I'm Jasper."

* * *

A/N: Thank you so very much to askthemagic8ball and sncmom who fix my errors, listen to my ideas and tell me I'm not completely off my rocker, but, and more importantly, are wonderful friends. Also, huge thanks to Katinki who made herself available to read for me between writing her own chapter and pre-reading and everything else she has going on. She kinda rocks.

Still with the sporadic updates, so thank you for reading, reviewing, and adding my fic to your alerts anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Still not mine.

Big thanks to askthemagic8ball, sncmom, and katinki for correcting my errors, stating what works, what doesn't, and for their general awesomeness. Thanks to several Twitter folk for help with translations, which ended up changing from my original question! :) Also, thanks so much for reading, reviewing, and adding to your alerts. No a/n at the bottom, just a few songs I listen to on loop when writing this.

* * *

"Gabriel didn't mention anything, did he?" Jasper said cautiously, releasing Bella's hand.

Bella cleared her throat again and shook her head. "No." She smiled awkwardly.

"That man is impossible."

"Do you know me?" she asked. "I mean why I'm… who are you exactly?" Bella placed her hands firmly on the counter. She wondered, and it angered her, if Dr. Reyes had told a complete stranger that a crazy woman was staying in his home. But then she noticed something familiar about Jasper.

"Gabriel mentioned a friend would be staying here for a little while and asked I pick up a few groceries. He said she, well, _you_, didn't know the area, so… I did." He shrugged then crossed his arms casually in front of him; the light glinted off a silver band on his ring finger. "I'm Jasper Whitlock-Reyes, Gabriel's husband."

Bella nodded once, though her face gave nothing away, she was somewhat surprised on the inside. She'd just always assumed there was a Mrs. Reyes. "Nice to meet you. I'm Bella Swan, but I guess you knew that already… _and_ I'm not a friend of your husband's."

She wasn't sure why her mouth moved on its own accord, but instead of backpedaling her statement, which could easily have been misconstrued, she said nothing. She did not, however, feel like pretending to be someone she wasn't.

"No?" Jasper asked.

"I was – still am, his patient. If you're uncomfortable with me being here, I'll leave. You have a beautiful home, by the way."

"What? No! Of course, not. If Gabriel wants you to be here, I'm sure he has his reasons. He may be impossible, but I trust his decisions." Jasper shot his thumb over his shoulder, pointing toward the front door. "My car's running. I'll let you get back to whatever you're doing – oh, there are some towels in a storage cabinet by the pool if you want to go for a swim. It's heated, so... make yourself at home. It was nice meeting you, Bella."

She nodded. "You, too, Jasper." She wouldn't be swimming.

"Wait," she said as he turned to leave. "You didn't drive all the way up here just to buy food for me, did you? I mean, don't the two of you live in town?"

He chuckled. "We do, but there's a bed and breakfast about twenty minutes from here. Gabriel… he said you needed some space, and the two of us were planning to stay there when he drives up tomorrow, but I'm staying there tonight."

Bella felt horrible for being the reason this man would not be able to stay in his own home, still, she said nothing. After Jasper left, Bella realized why he looked familiar and walked toward the fireplace. There were pictures of him and Dr. Reyes, and now that she looked closely enough, only one proved they were a couple. It was a reticent shot; they were merely laughing, but it was the way they were looking at each other, their expressions evocatively content.

Fifteen minutes later the house phone rang; Dr. Reyes called to apologize for being so _very unforthcoming_. Apparently, Jasper had given him a long and exceedingly loud lecture about when it truly is okay to share information with his patients.

"It's fine. He's nice."

"Do you have everything you need? Enough toilet paper?" He laughed.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"I'll be there tomorrow a little after noon, all right?"

"Yes." _Please don't speak to me like I'm a child_.

"Goodbye, then, Isabella."

"Good night."

**/**

"Well, where the hell is she, Gabriel? She's not at her apartment, and she was released days ago." Edward sat inside his car, waiting for the traffic light to change to green. He cradled his phone between his ear and shoulder as he stripped his leather gloves from his hands. It was hot, too hot. The temperature annoyed him, and he turned off the heater with a menacing flick.

"Edward, she hasn't mentioned wanting to see you just yet. But she's doing better," Gabriel embellished. "Give her time."

He clenched his eyes shut, leaning forward, resting his head on his arm against the steering wheel. "I'm trying, but fuck… I need to see for myself, you know?"

"I understand, and I know it's hard, but keep doing what you've been doing. Go to work and take care of that little girl of yours. What's going on with that anyway? Things settling down?"

Edward ignored the incessant bellow of the horn behind him for countless seconds. He gestured rudely to the driver before accelerating.

"No, last night, _finally_, she handed me divorce papers." _And_ _a pair of diamond earrings_. "She's staying at her mother's and took Senna with her. She only took her out of spite – Gwen doesn't give a fuck about our daughter."

"Edward, I'm sorry," Gabriel offered. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm on my way to my attorney's office now. She can have whatever she wants; I just want this over with."

"And Senna?"

"She'll be fine with Gwen's parents for now. She doesn't know what's going on; at least Gwen said she wouldn't say anything to her, but you know how she is – she's a lying cunt."

"Edward," he warned.

Edward pulled into a parking garage, maneuvering his car into the first available space he saw. He swallowed; his voice was low now, gravelly. "I want to see her."

"I won't be the middle man for the two of you."

"God dammit, Gabriel," he rasped, slamming his hand against the dash. "I'm not asking you to be. I want what's best for her, but Jesus Christ, what if we were talking about Jasper?"

A short stretch of silence passed between them.

"She's staying at my house up north. Do _not_-"

"I won't. Jesus. How is she?"

"She's fragile. Edward, she won't be able to handle going back to the real world, _her_ real world. She thinks she's stronger than she is, but she's not. Listen, I really can't say any more."

"I know, I know. Just... take care of her, all right?"

"Of course. I'll talk to you soon."

**/**

_**Thanksgiving – One week after Bella's arrival**_

The three of them finished their meal. Leaning back in their chairs, they felt rather stuffed but quite satisfied; Gabriel was an amazing cook. Neither Jasper nor Bella were allowed to do anything but mash potatoes and set the table. The two exchanged smirks and rolled their eyes at each other as Gabriel barked orders at them to not touch the cornbread or baste the turkey.

"What do you do, Jasper?" Bella asked before dinner, both confined to the living room.

He handed her a glass of merlot. "I'm a consultant. I teach corporate upper management how to get the most out of their employees through positive reinforcement," he answered noncommittally. "What about you?"

"Me?" Bella shifted, toed off her shoes and curled her legs underneath her as a derisive response dangled off her tongue. She chose obscurity. "Nothing. Do you like it? What you-"

"¡Mierda! Idiota, idiota," Gabriel yelled from the kitchen, his obscenities followed by a loud clank of metal.

"You okay?" Jasper asked, stifling a chuckle. He leaned toward Bella and whispered, "Looks like the king of the kitchen should've let us help after all."

He winked. She smiled.

"Si! Si," said Gabriel. His irritation was evident.

"Yeah," Jasper answered. "I'm not sure how much I believe my own bullshit anymore, though."

"Why's that?"

"Not everything is always so cut and dry."

She was thoughtful for a moment. Bella looked toward the kitchen then closed her eyes. "Smells good," she said. She looked back at Jasper. "What did he tell you about me?"

"Gabriel? He said you were a beautiful soul and that you and Edward probably loved one another as much as he and I love each other."

She missed him. Her stomach clenched, and she absently pinched the seam of the cushion.

"Do you think I'm a bad person? He's married."

"No, Bella, I don't." Jasper glanced toward the kitchen then back to her. "Gabriel was married when we met. I'm not saying it's okay, _I'd _kill him if he ever cheated on me." He laughed. "But it's not always that easy."

"He was married?"

"To a woman – how's that for scandal? They have a daughter, Leah, and when his ex-wife, Maria, found us – yes, she found us together – it destroyed her. It was impossible for her to understand, and I imagine how betrayed she felt, but he was never straight. He lied to himself forever. We met and we both knew from the beginning we were supposed to be together." Jasper glanced toward the kitchen. "It's sad, though, Leah refuses to have anything to do with him- he's crazy against infidelity."

"It's a little ironic, isn't it?"

"I guess it is, but he's seen the hurt first hand, saw what it does to family. But in your case… we're back in the gray area; he's committed to Edward, and he likes you. Sometimes you start off with the wrong person."

"He said I remind him of her, his daughter."

"Did he?"

"Apparently, we're both stubborn."

He smiled.

"I won't say anything," she promised.

"Why? _He_ already knows," Jasper teased, nodding toward Gabriel. "Do you think it's fair that he knows everything about you and you nothing about him?"

"But he's my doctor. I'm not supposed to know about _his_ skeletons." She felt warm from the wine she'd been drinking.

"Under ordinary circumstances, I suppose, but this situation isn't very ordinary now is it?"

Gabriel rested his arm on the back of Jasper's chair; Jasper's hand rested on Gabriel's thigh. Bella sat across from them, peering at the couple over the lighted candles in the center of the table – she felt at ease.

"It's silly for the two of you to stay at the B&B," she announced. Bella wiped the corner of her mouth with her napkin. "It's too quiet here."

Today was the first day she'd worn make-up and styled her hair. She'd become too comfortable wearing jogging attire, her hair swept up in a loose bun. Today she felt almost human, and now, after her conversation with Jasper, she felt understood, _slightly_. Everything else momentarily buried.

Jasper looked toward Gabriel and smiled. "Yeah, okay," he said, answering before Gabriel had a chance. He patted Gabriel's thigh then rose to begin clearing the table.

That night Bella lay in bed, restless, staring at the ceiling. Having Gabriel and Jasper in the same house as her had helped only so much. She counted the slats of the blinds on one of the windows – thirty-two. She glided her hand over her neck, her clavicle and over her breast. She thought about Edward. How long had it been since she'd seen him? A month? It seemed longer – a year, a decade. She wondered if his hair had grown or if he'd gotten it cut, and she touched the tattoo on the back of her neck.

Bella couldn't lie dormant any longer, her skin prickled; it felt as if her feet were being poked by a million pins, and she stretched her legs only to curl them back up again.

She got out of bed then dressed in the clothes she'd worn earlier in the day. Bella wasn't sure what she was going to do, but she wanted to get out of her room regardless of how comfortably it was decorated: plums and azure blues and oddly shaped, matching glass vases.

She closed her bedroom door, thinking she'd go downstairs to find a book in which to become engrossed. Perhaps she'd take a drive. Did it matter she didn't know her way around and would undoubtedly get lost? No, not really. As Bella walked down the hall, she passed Gabriel and Jasper's room. She could hear muffled speech then silence. She then heard soft moans; she stopped and placed her palm then her forehead against the door. For a small moment, Bella listened to the two of them make love, to their sounds of sweet pleasure; an ache emerged deep in her stomach.

Bella didn't remember consciously deciding to go to the pool house, but she was there. She lay on the edge, her body pressed against the cement as she skimmed the flat of her hand along the surface of the water. Bella moved her hand in circles, dipping her fingers every so often, feeling empty save the weight in her chest. Bella didn't want to die today; she wanted to feel him.

Her senses filled with the reminder of Edward as she closed her eyes; the smell of chlorine was strong, wanted. With her hand, Bella scooped up water in vain, wetting her face and nose.

It wasn't enough_._

She wanted to sleep with the smell of him on her skin and in her hair; Bella moved closer to the edge, she let her body fall. Weightless and deaf, she closed her eyes and was surrounded by nothing, floating beneath the surface.

It was bliss, almost.

Bella came up for air when her lungs constricted only to go under again. She did this repeatedly, her clothes sodden, her fingers wrinkled.

"Hey," he spoke softly as she came up for air again, kneeling at the edge of the pool. Bella was unaware that Edward had been watching her from the other side of the glass wall for some time. He'd lost his restraint to stay away any longer. He needed her.

Bella stared at him, stunned. She treaded water, trying to determine if he was real or a dream. Her body trembled, her heart raced; he looked exactly the same, but he didn't. She'd never before seen him in casual clothes: jeans and a navy blue sweater, or was it black? It was too hard to tell; her eyes burned from the chlorine.

Edward discarded his shoes, eyeing Bella warily. He was terrified she'd ask him to leave.

She wouldn't.

"I shouldn't be here. You don't want me here," he admitted. "But I can't stay away. Should I go?"

Just barely, she shook her head.

There was a minimal splash when he entered the water, ripples pushing away from him. Both Edward and Bella moved their feet and waved their arms to stay afloat. Edward dipped his chin, wetting his mouth but never taking his eyes off Bella. And she, like a magnet, drifted closer to him. Bella watched the light refract off his green eyes; she noticed he was thinner as he found the same to be of her.

Still, she shivered, too scared to be near him, but even more frightened to be too far away. He could disappear at any moment. Her breath was shaky as he inched nearer.

Edward was close enough to touch her, his restraint vanished completely, but as he reached to touch her face, his hand quivered. He cupped her cheek, and she leaned into his hand. Bella closed her eyes and tears fell; pain flashed across her face. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him.

Edward kissed her just under her jaw. Pressing his lips to her ear he whispered everything was going to be okay – he made promises he shouldn't have. But to have his voice in her ear, to be surrounded by him, it was okay he made false guarantees. This was all she needed, and she turned her head, her lips meeting his.

"Don't go," she mumbled against his mouth, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Edward held her, treading water to keep them both afloat.

"Okay."

Bella shook her head as Edward lightly kissed her cheeks, forehead, and the lids of her eyes. "No. Don't ever go."

She was absolutely vulnerable, and Edward knew this. She was spun sugar, a sight of complexity and masterful beauty and sweetness on the tongue, yet he feared if he held her too tightly, she'd snap and crumble.

"Are you sure?" he asked, moving them toward the edge of the pool, to where it was shallow.

"Yes." There was tentative conviction in her voice.

With difficulty, Bella removed her saturated sweater then bra, baring herself to Edward. She kissed him again, softly, and together they undressed, allowing their clothes to sink to the bottom. It wasn't a race for either, their actions weren't feverish, but they weren't gentle. Edward explored Bella's body with his hand and mouth, touching her thigh, her backside and between her legs. He tasted her neck, her shoulder, and her breasts. She was hot and cold, and their hearts pounded, blood pulsed in their ears.

She tilted her head back as he licked her neck once more, her thighs grasping his waist, feet tangled around his calves, and her knees rubbed against the tile of the pool. Bella dug her fingers into the back of his neck while gripping the edge with her other hand. She emptied her mind; it was so easy now – because he was here. Bella moved her hand to touch him, stroking and teasing until finally guiding him inside her. A flutter of completeness, a feeling of _this is how it's supposed to be_, coursed through her body.

She swept her hand through his hair, tugging as though to remind herself he wasn't an illusion. Edward moaned in response, driving himself deeper inside her, his back pressed painfully against the wall of the pool. But the discomfort didn't matter; he'd lie on broken glass to be this close to her again.

"Be my sun," he whispered, almost begging, gripping her hip and her back, his face buried in her neck; she nodded.

Edward nibbled at her ear then kissed wherever his lips would reach; she held him closer. His desire for her, all of her, was dangerously infinite. He was desperate to keep her, covet her. He wanted to belong to her, for her to claim him as her own, but it was so different than before.

Bella shook, pressing her mouth to the top of his head, her eyes screwed shut, her nails digging into the cement. She breathed his name, her voice hoarse, as she came. Bella continued to roll her hips; she kissed his temple then touched his cheek with hers. "Edward," she repeated.

He felt the rise of his orgasm, and he stiffened, releasing and pulsating inside her. "I love you, Bella." His voice was low, nearly inaudible. He questioned his motives, his decision to say these words aloud. She wasn't ready, he knew this, yet, gently, he moved his hands to her face and brushed his thumbs along her cheeks and told her again.

* * *

_Black _by Pearl Jam

_Razor _by Foo Fighters

_Mad World_ by Gary Jules

_Release _and _Oceans_ by… Pearl Jam (What can I say? I like PJ & Eddie Vedder. A lot.)

Sigur Ros, or more specifically, the Sigur Ros station on Pandora radio.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: I'm pretty lucky to have some very amazing people beta and pre-read for me: katinki, askthemagic8ball, and sncmom. They tend to drop what they're doing, talk me off ledges, and make me smile.

Also, something happened this week and there was a mini explosion of alerts for this fic. So, I really need to thank Indie Fic Pimp for rec'ing _Red_ all week, fingrcufs for all the twitter pimping, obsmama for her write-up on Indie Fic Pimp, ememmyem for her write-up on the Perv Pack's Smut Shack, and jaimearkin for making a pretty banner (which I'd put on my profile if I knew how to link it properly)! Holy smokes, you guys! Thank you!

Just so you know, this chapter comes with a warning… again.

* * *

They lay side by side, flesh against flesh, arms and legs tangled and holding firm. He'd made her laugh several times throughout the night. They'd never shared laughter before; the melodic tones in their voices were foreign to both their ears. She was lighter, freer. Bella's mind spun as if she'd ridden a bicycle down a serpentine path with her arms raised high over her head, steering this impossible maneuver from sheer will. She felt a sense of bravery and strength, a new and welcomed prowess of sorts, dizzying in its capacity. She flew with invisible wings; she could shout at the wind. Bella would soar higher and higher through dense clouds, the moisture cleansing her body and leaving an essence of purity.

He hadn't expected Bella to tell him she loved him; Edward just needed her to know. He whispered as much in her ear while she lay on her stomach, and he watched the rise and fall of her back as she breathed. Edward slowly kissed up her spine then her shoulders, continuing to the backs of her arms. He slid under her arm to face her; she laughed at his attempt to be sly. Edward borrowed some of Jasper's clothes from the laundry room, and they snuck out of the house before sunrise to get breakfast from a little coffee shop down the road. Neither knew if it would be open at such an ungodly hour, but they tried the door anyway. It was closed, nevertheless the owner was kind and let them in. Edward and Bella returned home while Gabriel and Jasper still slept, creeping up the stairs like impetuous teenagers coming in hours after curfew.

They knew nothing of the other, yet they knew everything.

Hours passed, and Gabriel paced the floor of the living room. He'd been warned by Jasper that Bella was not his daughter, and he could not pound on her bedroom door as he had wanted, demanding to know what the hell was going on. He remembered aloud to Jasper how he'd cautioned Edward to stay away, that his temporary absence was better for her; Jasper said he wouldn't have listened either. Gabriel's irritability softened, and he admitted that was what he loved most about Jasper: his ignorant passion. In the middle of the afternoon, Gabriel heard the second floor shower turn on, hoping it meant Bella and Edward would soon make an appearance. The shower hadn't run a second time, and after an hour there was still no sign of Edward or Bella. Once again, Gabriel's patience wore thin, but under the advisement from his husband, he agreed, again, to step back. Still, he worried; his voice of reason and years of experience strong in his mind. He feared she'd regress. In fact, he was certain.

At six-forty-two p.m., Gabriel rapped lightly on Bella's bedroom door. "Join us for dinner?" It was ridiculous, he thought, continuing to walk on eggshells, pretending as though he was unaware of Edward's arrival. Throughout the afternoon, Gabriel had made enough food to feed a small army. He needed to burn off energy - there was only so much pacing he could do.

Bella cracked open the door, she was fully dressed. Gabriel wasn't sure what to expect, really, however she did look tired… and beautiful. Her skin held a certain glow, and Gabriel noticed a change in her eyes. But, silently, those eyes pled with his to say nothing. She stood with one hand on the door, the other against the frame, and the two stared at each other wordlessly. Edward stepped beside her and opened the door wider, locking his arms around her waist.

"We were just getting ready to come down," he said before kissing Bella's temple.

"It smells wonderful." She offered a weak smile.

"Paella – hope you like it."

Edward closed the door as Gabriel walked away. "You okay?"

"Yeah," she answered, still holding onto Edward.

"I told you." Edward smoothed her hair away from her face. "Everything is going to be fine. Things are different now." Edward believed what he was saying; he felt it – the change, the difference in their relationship. He shared Bella's high: the power and invincibility. Edward saw their future together; she'd be in his bed every night, and he'd make love to her until every dawn. He'd make certain he'd miss nothing; she wouldn't fall again. She couldn't because things had changed - she was going to be just fine.

Bella turned to face Edward. His smile was genuine, and she let it warm her, and she pushed away the doubt she saw in Gabriel's eyes. "We'll eat fast and then we're coming right back up here after dinner," she said with a laugh.

"For dessert?"

Fisting his shirt, Bella stretched up on the balls of her feet to reach her mouth to his throat. "Dessert…" She pressed a kiss to his Adam's apple and continued to nip at the underside of his jaw as he squeezed her arms. "Breakfast, lunch… whatever you want."

Thirty minutes later, Jasper passed the serving spoon to Edward as the four of them sat around the table. "How've you been? It's been ages!"

"Never better," Edward answered, glancing toward Bella. "It really has been too long – why is that?"

"Oh, I don't know, Mr. Big Shot CEO of Cullen Securities," he teased. "You tell me."

"Maybe you should talk to Edward's management team, Jas. You know, teach them how to make Edward's employees reach their optimum potential so he won't have to work so much," Gabriel added, chuckling. His eyes flickered between Edward and Bella.

She felt his gaze on her; judgmental, she thought. Bella looked away from Gabriel to Edward. "Yes, you should," she said then averted her eyes back to Gabriel. "We're going to Paris when it's warmer." _See, I'm making plans._

Edward lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. Jasper went on about how romantic the Seine was and told them they must visit the Sacré Coeur basilica. He said this in his best French accent, but failed miserably, earning laughter from the others.

"You need to take _me_ to Paris in the spring, love," Jasper told Gabriel.

"Is that so?"

"Yes, it is. I don't remember the last time we went on vacation." Jasper wiped the corner of Gabriel's mouth with his thumb.

"We went to Spain last year!"

Jasper looked at Bella and Edward; the two were smiling at Jasper and Gabriel's banter. Pointedly, he said, "We were there for four days to attend his cousin's wedding – trust me, it was no vacation."

"Well, I guess he owes you, doesn't he?" Bella said, cocking a single brow. Edward agreed.

"Relentless." Gabriel sighed theatrically, rolling his eyes.

Edward leaned close to Bella; he brushed her hair away from her ear and whispered too low for anyone else to hear. "I want to make love to you in Spain."

She closed her eyes, wanting him to say it again; she loved the low rasp of his voice. "Paris first," she said, just as quietly.

"All right then," Gabriel announced, oblivious to Edward and Bella's exchange. He raised his glass. "To Paris in the spring."

**/**

She straddled him as he lay on his back, keeping her promise to retreat to her bedroom soon after dinner. Bella leaned over top of him; her hands rested on his bare chest while Edward had his placed comfortably on her naked thighs. She glided her nose along his jaw, and each of them stole a light kiss here and there. They were both quiet, content, an unfamiliar serenity surrounding them.

"I love you, Bella."

"I love you, too."

Relief washed over him, hearing these words for the first time - like fresh air and candy. The same held true for Bella, her affirmation slipped so easily from her tongue.

"I'll give you everything," he started, "if… don't try to leave me again." Edward lifted her chin then held her face in his hands. "Just don't."

"I won't... don't talk about that."

Edward was still unaware of why she suffered. It wasn't Gabriel's right to tell him, and Edward refused himself any opportunity to delve into her past regardless of the resources he had at his fingertips. In Edward's world, he was king protecting those who needed it, a genius in corporate safeguard. Yet with Bella he would take risks, step out of his proverbial comfort zone. She weakened his defense, and for this he loved her even more. She made him feel human.

"But you need to know, okay? You need to understand what you mean to me." Edward sat up, keeping her in his lap. "It's not a fantasy, I swear to you. How we started? Yeah, sure. But now? You're all I am." A lump lodged in his throat. "Jesus Christ, Bella, don't you ever fucking do that again."

"It's all right." Bella hushed him by kissing his lips, murmuring, "Shh, it's okay. I'm fine now. We're okay, I promise." She wanted to believe this - she had only hours prior - but her resolve began to fracture. "I don't want to talk about that anymore," she said. "It was stupid, I know. I didn't know what I was thinking. I love you, Edward."

Bella kissed him again. "I want to go home," she said. "Tomorrow, we can get out of here and pretend none of this ever happened."

"You're sure?"

"I am. I want to start over… with you."

The next morning, Edward spoke with Gabriel. He asked what Gabriel thought about her leaving, if she was ready, but his anxiety superseded any hope of Gabriel confirming it being a good idea. Edward wanted to know if Gabriel thought he could take care of her, and he explained his dire need to do so. In blunt words, Gabriel said she was not, by any means, ready to go home. But he couldn't stop her. He said Edward was playing with matches too close to an open tank of gasoline, and Edward needed to know what he was up against.

"But you saw her yesterday, Gabriel – she's happy," Edward said in a low voice as the two spoke tucked in a hall far from where Bella and Jasper were sitting. "Are you saying she's lying?"

"No, no, no. That's not what I mean, Edward. She _is_ happy… now. It's-" Gabriel scratched the back of his head, formulating an explanation. "It's chemical, what's going on inside her brain. You showing up, making her smile, taking her out of herself for a few moments, it's good, yes, but she's feeding off that high right now – she doesn't know how to balance, and she's smart. Bella is too smart, _or dumb_, for her own good because she's convinced herself any therapies or techniques are ineffective, you know? They're, um, a waste because for her nothing will change, and she's accepted this."

Edward peered around Gabriel then rubbed his jaw. He could feel perspiration forming on his palms, and as he leaned back against the wall, his shoulder hit a picture of the Cullens and Reyes', knocking it cockeyed. "Isn't accepting the first rule to getting over something? And if it's chemical, medication would work, right?"

"Yes and no. Meds can stabilize, but they won't change the way she thinks or how she sees herself. It's complicated, Edward, especially with things like this."

"What does that mean? What the hell happened?" Edward asked. Gabriel pursed his lips, his brows knit. Edward stared at him for a moment, and then it clicked. "Someone hurt her. Who was it? You need to tell me right now." Edward clenched his jaw, his teeth ground together in anger; he'd do no less than kill them.

"You need to ask her – it has to come from Bella. She needs to trust you enough to be able to open up to you because if she doesn't, it's not going to work for the two of you."

"Does Jasper know?"

"He's only made guesses, I haven't confirmed. It's not my business to tell him, and don't badger him about it because he doesn't know for sure." Edward scrubbed his hand over his face, and Gabriel placed his on Edward's arm. "Listen, go out with Jasper for a while – an hour or two – let me talk to her before she packs her things."

Bella knew exactly what the three of them were doing. Jasper and Edward were behaving oddly chipper; they'd made the excuse of needing to gas up their cars before taking the trip back into town. She didn't question them, instead, after the two left, she sat in one of the oversized chairs in the living room and invited Gabriel to sit opposite her.

She sighed, smiling. "Let's get this over with. What do you want to know?"

Gabriel returned her smile. "Okay, at the risk of sounding like a shrink, how're you feeling?"

"You are, though, so I doubt you'd ever be able to avoid that." She laughed. "I feel good, really, I do. I want to start over, and I told Edward exactly that. It feels right."

"Good. When are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. Tomorrow. Never – does it matter?" _Don't do this_.

"You've got quite the bravado going on."

"I don't know what you mean."

"Sure you do. That's fine, don't tell him. He doesn't deserve to know, does he?"

She shifted in the chair. "Are you angry with me? Look, I appreciate everything you've done. You, Jasper – you've both been so great, but I'm not going to hurt Edward. I really do love him."

"I'm not angry, and I'm not talking about Edward getting his feelings hurt. Don't you think you need to stop with all the secrecy, though?"

"What secrets?"

"Bella."

"Oh, the whore thing, yeah, he knows."

"No, that's not what-"

"What? I am, aren't I? Isn't that what you're getting at?" She balled her hands, taking a deep breath. "I wish I didn't have to leave like this, Gabriel, or maybe I should call you Dr. Reyes now, but I'm ready, and you can try all you'd like to beat that dead horse, but I can do this. I'm not going to try to kill myself again. I was in a bad place, so, please, let's end this on a happy note, okay? Please."

Gabriel leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "All right then. Humor me and tell me it wasn't your fault."

She blinked her eyes, shaking her head. "It wasn't my fault. Satisfied?" She lifted her palms upward and then rose from her chair.

Gabriel watched as she walked into the kitchen. She pulled a bottle of water out of the refrigerator, twisting the plastic cap on and off. Bella stood with her back to him for several minutes as she waited for the nausea in her stomach to subside. Even more moments passed, and Bella finally returned to her spot across from Gabriel, knowing full well he'd persist with this impromptu therapy session. She waited for him to speak first; Bella knew how to hurry things along.

"Tell me, Bella, do you honestly think someone who is barely fourteen knows the difference between right and wrong?"

"That's a gray area, but no, not always."

"Do you think someone who's much older should know the difference between right and wrong?"

"Again, a gray area, but, yes, I suppose they should."

"So, this person, this man whom you trusted and looked up to, you agree that he took advantage of you?"

Bella cleared her throat and gripped the arms of the chair. "Sure. He was a friend of the family. He was an adult, I was a child. He paid attention to me, and I was enamored with him. I had a crush on him, yes - a foolish teenage crush. He told me I was pretty and smart, and he said I was better in bed than any of his girlfriends ever were." Bella concentrated on the air entering and leaving her lungs, and she dug her nails deep into the fabric.

"But that's not the worst part, is it?" he asked.

She shook her head, warning him not to go any further. "Edward and Jasper should be back soon."

"What did your parents do when they found out? What was it, two years later?"

"Why are you doing this? You already know."

"What did they say, Bella?"

She bit the inside of her cheek, tasting the metallic of the blood. "It doesn't matter. I don't speak to them anymore."

"They didn't say anything, did they? They swept the entire sordid affair under the rug, and told you to never mention it again."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. Edward-"

"Edward loves you."

"Don't talk about Edward."

"Why not?"

"You'll break our confidentiality if you tell him."

"So many secrets. It's easier that way, isn't it? You're compartmentalizing your life. Don't mix your fantasy with your reality?"

"He's not a fantasy." _Fucking bastard_.

"No, he's real and he loves you; you love him – he needs to know." _I'm sorry_. "Don't you want to be normal for him?" Gabriel hated this.

"Go to hell." Bella hated _him_; her eyes welled with tears.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything, and I won't have him look at me with that same fucking pitiful look that you have right now," she spat.

"Why? You think he's better than you?"

"Just stop." The nausea returned to her stomach.

He wanted to stop, but he couldn't. Not yet.

"Tell me why he can't feel badly for what happened to you? He loves you unconditionally – I'd bet my life on it."

Bella gnawed again on the inside of her cheek, staring through Gabriel, seeing nothing but white, and her head pounded.

"Edward isn't a representation of your parents, Bella."

"I'm not an idiot," she said, refocusing on Gabriel. "I know the difference."

"Do you?"

"Yes, I know Edward won't hurt me."

"Interesting choice of words."

"Fuck you." She couldn't breathe. "Don't twist what I'm saying."

"You wanted your mother and father to tell you everything was going to be all right and that you did nothing wrong, but they didn't. They didn't report that man, their friend, to the police either. No, instead he's probably living a happy life somewhere because they didn't allow you to say anything."

"It doesn't matter. See, I didn't say no."

"And if you'd had? Come on, Bella, you know that piece of shit would have gotten to you anyway." _I'm sorry._

"Everything was up to me." _He said so._ She was that little girl again, the one who believed everything he'd told her.

Gabriel shot up from the chair, jabbing his finger at her. "He fucked with your head, and so did your parents!" Bella flinched.

"I had control." Her voice cracked.

"No, you didn't!" Gabriel yelled. "You had no control then just like you don't have any now!"

"Edward will be back soon," she whispered, her leg bouncing in nervous succession.

"Did you want him, Bella?" he shouted. "Is that it? You wanted to be molested – is that what you're telling me?"

"You're disgusting." She shook her head, her face wet with tears.

"No, what's disgusting is what was done to you, and you didn't want any of it, did you?"

She brought her legs to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.

"Did you!" he yelled.

"No!" she screamed. She sobbed openly, her chest heaving with stinging breaths.

Gabriel knelt in front of her. "Your parents abandoned you." Bella nodded, and he stroked her hair. She leaned into him and he held her. "They were wrong."

"Why?" she asked, her voice muffled and shaky. "Why didn't they do anything?"

From his periphery, Gabriel saw Edward and Jasper standing in the doorway. He had no idea how long they had been there.

* * *

a/n: thanks for reading


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: Why can't Twilight be mine?

Thanks to the ladies with red pens and brilliant minds: askthemagic8ball, katinki, and sncmom – I love them hard. Also, thank you to KlrTwiLuver who has also pimped out this fic on Twitter.

* * *

Jasper pushed past Edward, who stood paralyzed, and swiftly strode toward Bella. He lifted her from the chair, consoling her. "Shh, come on, sweetie. I've got you," he said, and carried her upstairs.

After Gabriel rose from the floor, he walked toward Edward, asking how much he'd heard, intending to explain. But before Gabriel could say anything more, Edward's hands connected roughly with his chest. Gabriel staggered, raising his hands in defense just before Edward shoved him up against the wall, pictures rattled, and he did it again. He seethed with rage and confusion and hate.

"Fucking prick!" Spit flew from his mouth, his face contorting in anger, veins jutted around his temples and strained at his neck. He had Gabriel pinned, growling out expletives and threats at the "fucking cocksucker" who'd hurt her.

Gabriel grabbed Edward's wrists. "Enough!" he yelled, pushing Edward away. "Control yourself!"

A loud smack echoed as the palm of Edward's hand hit the wall.

Edward paced back and forth in short distance; Gabriel watched with a cautious eye as he waited for him to calm down. Gabriel knew his godson had a temper, but never had he imagined Edward would react with such physical force.

Edward's head jumbled; it raced with thoughts of revenge and inadequacy. "Fix her," he said. "You tell me how to make this right."

"It's not that easy."

"I fucking know that!" he snapped, and Gabriel told him to lower his voice. "Just tell me what to do."

"Everything you saw and heard, Edward - that was huge for her. But if you continue to behave like a damn baboon it will be nothing but detrimental to any progress she will make!"

Every muscle in Edward's body was tight, hot; he gripped the back of his neck, absorbing what Gabriel said, what he'd heard Bella admit. He realized now it was as if her frailty was woven with strands of dragline silk. When Edward was a boy, he'd been fascinated with the intricacy of a spider's web. On summer days, he'd spend hours with his nose mere inches from the impossibly perfect structure enthralled by its magnificence. He dared to touch a web one hot afternoon which had been constructed between two of his mother's azalea bushes. The owner of the snare, a large orange and black creature, sat in the middle, and when Edward had reached out his finger, the web pulled, and the spider scattered.

"I don't want that," Edward said.

"All right then, let me do my job. I do need to ask something of you, though."

"I'm not leaving."

"No, that's not what I was going to say, but you have to get your things in order at home – figure out where you stand, what you're going to do about Senna… Edward, I want you to start talking to someone as well. Not me, of course, but maybe a colleague of mine."

Edward sat on the floor, his head pressed back against the wall outside Bella's room for an hour, or maybe it had been two. In truth, he wasn't sure how much time had passed; he stared at the plain white ceiling, at a dark wooden knob on the high-boy across from him, he stared at a deep green shard which seemingly held no significance in the pattern of the stained glass window above the piece of furniture. All the while, he hadn't truly seen anything. Instead, he thought about what he knew - things which made sense. He'd always known the solution to any problem presented: a client who perhaps had gotten overzealous in their endeavors, he'd ensure an invisible technological glitch be implanted in the heart of their survival. A scrape on his daughter's knee would require Edward to play doctor, pretending she needed immediate medical attention, sometimes even surgery which simply equated to a bandage festooned with her favorite character. He'd then take her out for ice cream. But now, he was helpless - there was no immediate solution. Edward knocked his head back against the wall in aggravation then rose from the floor to make his way downstairs. He retrieved his cell phone from his coat pocket; he spoke with his daughter for close to thirty minutes, happily listening to her explain in detail everything she and her grandparents had done over the past week. He told her he loved her and promised adventures of their own when he returned. Edward went back upstairs, knocked warily on Bella's door, but turned the handle before hearing a response.

Jasper was perched on one end of the plum cushion seat of the window and Bella on the other. He patted her knee as he stood and then did the same to Edward's arm as he left the room.

Edward closed the door behind him. Bella's eyes flickered toward him. Unsure, uneasy, she now vacillated about how she'd handle this moment and looked out the window. Part of her was grateful Jasper had decided to come back to the house early; everything was now out in the open. And even though he made no confessions, Bella was fairly certain he and Edward coming in when they had was purposeful. The other part of her, however, wanted nothing more than to not have the conversation she was about to have with Edward.

"I don't want your pity," she said, watching his reflection in the window. He narrowed the distance between them, and she stiffened, her insides coiling.

Edward sat on the edge of her bed. "I'd never do that."

She drew in a shaky breath. "I don't want you to tell me how sorry you are, either."

"Okay… but I am."

"Edward-"

"What am I supposed to say?" His voice strained. "Do you want me to pretend that I didn't walk in on you sitting in that chair crying and just ignore the things I heard? Jesus Christ, Bella, I love you, and it's fucking killing me right now that I can't do a damn thing about it."

"I'm scared." She pressed her head against the cold window. The chill of the glass was soothing, and she hugged her knees to her chest. He asked why. "This might end us."

His stomach flip-flopped. "You're wrong."

"I'm a mess."

"Not to me."

"I'm broken."

"Nobody's perfect."

She huffed.

Edward looked down. "I wish you could see yourself as I do," he said quietly, his voice so low he wondered if she heard him.

There hadn't been many moments of clarity throughout Bella's life, those where the true path was the obvious choice, one she'd tackle willingly - like the day she decided to leave home - but this time was an exception. She turned her focus to Edward, and as she did, he lifted his head, their eyes locking - she heard him. Bella studied him for several moments, allowing the future she craved from his words to coincide with her present. Because if she shelved this, _him_, if she loosened her grip too soon, she'd face unfathomable consequences of beginning anew.

"The other night, you asked me to be your sun," she said. "You're mine, you know."

"Come on," Edward said, offering his hand as he stood. "Let's get out of here for a little while."

Bella washed her face and brushed out her hair. She stared at her reflection for a while, some days she hated what she saw, but now, she was okay with it. What had transpired only hours prior with Gabriel, his voice booming challenges and accusations thus breaking her down; he'd made her felt small until she felt liberated. She mourned the parents she deserved and cursed the ones she had been given when she and Jasper sat alone in her room; he listened and offered smiles and held hands as she went on and on, toggling emotions of anger and sorrow. And now Edward was waiting for her, his reaction better than she'd imagined; he whet her palate with a security she'd longed for. _It's a new day_, she thought, that feeling of power rising once again. Bella reached in the shower and turned the valve to hot, no matter she'd taken one that morning.

"Edward, I'm going to take a quick shower," she said, peering around the side of the door. He was sitting on the bed again, hair combed, coat on, the scene before her oddly reminiscent – like déjà vu, or perhaps an old desire come true. "I'll just be a few more minutes."

He smiled. "Take your time. I'm not going anywhere."

After Edward and Bella descended the stairs, Gabriel asked to speak with Bella privately.

"Are you okay?" he asked after leading Bella into the office.

She'd only poked her head into this room once since she'd arrived and thought nothing of it. But now, seeing Gabriel stand among the rich wood and leather furniture, the simplistic order flowing throughout, Bella could see how very much this room was Gabriel.

"Bella? I asked if you were okay."

She smiled, breaking from her thoughts. "No, but I want to be."

"All right - when you and Edward get back, I want to go over a plan with you. We'll set up a few goals, talk about when you want to go back to your apartment – things like that." She nodded. "You're in the driver's seat, Bella, and I want you to know you can stay here as long as you like, but I'd like to start talking with you in a more formal setting."

"What does that mean, _formal setting_? As in you in a white coat and me in a padded cell?"

He smiled. "No, it means you and I having our sessions in my office in town. I've got to head back tomorrow – post holiday rush and all." He winked; she went slack jawed. "I'm kidding, sorry, horrible joke."

"No, it's fine," she laughed. "I'd never peg you for one to have such inappropriate humor."

"And a padded cell isn't inappropriate?" Gabriel crossed his arms, sitting on the edge of his desk. "We have a lot to talk about, starting next week. Okay? In the meantime, you and Edward need to start talking about where the two of you are going, what you want out of your relationship."

_Her relationship with Edward_, the thought was… overwhelming.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"I don't want to talk to another doctor; I trust you. But you're Edward's family, and I know we sort of covered this in the hospital… I need to know if it's going to cause any problems between the two of you because I don't want to come between you. And then there's Jasper – I like him. I don't want to lose his friendship because his husband happens to be my shrink. I'm so tired of secrets."

"I can't guarantee my being your doctor will or won't cause problems between Edward and me, but he's a big boy, he'll be able to deal with it. And, Bella, secrets are only kept by those who hold them. One step at a time – you're in the driver's seat, remember?"

She clucked her tongue, raising a brow. "You know if you're going to try and pull this metaphorical crap in our sessions, I'm not going to buy it."

"Is that so? I thought I was being quite poetic." She laughed, and Gabriel eased off the desk, sliding his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "I'm sorry things had to come out the way they did, but you should know what you accomplished today was pretty incredible."

**/**

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" They sped down the two-lane road lined with trees the size of giants, live and dead brush lay at the feet of the massive trunks, all of it a blur of green and brown as evening approached.

"Not really," he laughed and squeezed their laced fingers. "Any suggestions?"

She threw a pointed, albeit playful look at him. "I don't really know my way around here, so, no, sorry." Bella pursed her lips.

"Is that your angry face?" he asked. "It's a little adorable."

"Just a little?"

"My mistake - a lot adorable."

She shook her head and looked out the passenger window. "Are you hungry? I'm getting there."

"I could eat. In the mood for anything in particular?"

"Not really, and considering we're most likely in the middle of nowhere, I think the first place we find will work for me," she teased.

"Hmm. That could be a while… How about Paris?" he blurted, glancing at her from the corner of his eye.

"What?"

"You know, that city in France? I hear they have pretty good food: cheese, wine… chocolate mousse?"

"Uh huh, sure. Let's go." Bella shook her head, smiling.

"I'm serious… but only if you want to."

She shifted in her seat to face him. He half smiled, raising his brow. "You're serious," she repeated, and he nodded. Her heart fluttered at the thought. "You don't want to wait until spring?" It was wonderfully strange discussing travel plans as a normal couple might, but she was caught in a whirlwind of emotions.

Edward shrugged, focusing his attention back on the road. "No, we can, but I was thinking…" he paused, and Bella waited. "You have an entire week before you really start to work with Gabriel, and, well, you've had a pretty shitty month."

Truth be told, his intentions were honest, but a pang of worry had reared itself once more - a thought so loud in his ears it may as well have been shouted through a megaphone. What if she didn't want him after she became well?

"You realize how crazy that is, don't you?" she said. "It _would_ be amazing, though." Bella settled further into her seat, exhaustion suddenly setting in, and she yawned.

Edward looked in her direction, and then down at their hands. He lifted and turned hers; he kissed her wrist then her palm. Regardless of his fear, he'd sacrifice himself for her.

"It will be," he said. "I'm sorry – that was stupid of me to even bring it up. You just tell me whenever you want to go."

She smiled. "I didn't say _no_."

Edward slowed the car, pulling over onto the shoulder. "No pressure," he said. "I'm being selfish, and… I don't know, I just want you to be happy. I have a tendency to go a little overboard at times."

Bella straightened in her seat. She thought back to her conversation with Gabriel, what he said about what she wanted out of a relationship with Edward. "Let's say we do go, will it be the happiest time we'll ever have together?"

"God, I hope not," he said in earnest.

"Okay. Tomorrow?" she asked, and he grinned.

**/**

"You two go out for a drive and come back to tell me you're leaving for Europe the next day," Gabriel said. "You know what I'm thinking, don't you?"

"I have a good idea. Four days," she explained. "I promise you I'm not, _we're_ not running away."

"Bella-"

"You have to trust me. I don't want to run off and pretend like everything is perfect, okay? Do you have any idea of all the shit that's gone through my head today? Look, I need you, but right now, I need a break."

Gabriel wrote down his cell phone number and handed it to Bella. She already had it but took the folded paper from him anyway. "Call me when you get to your apartment tomorrow – if you need to. And if you feel like you want to talk or anything before I see you again, you can call me then, too."

The following morning, saying goodbye to Jasper was harder than Bella imagined it would be. In the very short time they'd gotten to know one another, he'd become a true friend, wanting nothing in return - the concept unfamiliar to her. Gabriel had left the house before sunrise, and after breakfast, Jasper told Bella and Edward they should be on their way as well. Jasper wrapped Bella in his arms, kissed her cheek and made her swear she'd give him another shot at beating her at Scrabble. She said she would.

**/**

Bella dreaded crossing the threshold into her apartment, anxiety nearly suffocating her. She hadn't been there since her release from the hospital, and even then she'd spent no more than twenty minutes quickly throwing essentials into her suitcase before she'd gone to Gabriel and Jasper's. Edward entered first, sensing her fear and set her suitcase by the door.

A musty odor filled the air, and she noticed a thin layer of dust had collected on a side table in her absence. Bella walked directly toward a window, opening it as wide as it would go. A gust of wind blew and ruffled the curtains; she shivered. Edward asked if there was anything he could do for her; they still had six hours until their flight, but both needed to pack, and his home was located on the other side of town. Bella would not be accompanying Edward to his empty apartment. They had both agreed it be best if he gathered his things by himself, neither wanting to risk the possibility him being seen with another woman.

Edward surveyed the mute surroundings; everything was beige and white. Her choice of aesthetics not at all what he had imagined; he'd always pictured something more bold and brilliant.

"I'll take your bag to your room. It's down the hall?"

She said yes and thanked him.

Her bed was unmade, the red comforter lying mostly on the floor. _Red_. He wondered briefly if this color was merely a coincidence. His eyes were then drawn toward an empty wine glass which sat on her nightstand. He immediately felt sick. Edward knew this was where the paramedics had found her, so why hadn't he better prepared himself for this? He raked his hand through his hair, angry he'd been so utterly stupid for not coming here sooner. He would have washed her sheets, disposed of the glass…

"It's a mess in here. Sorry," she said.

Edward whipped around, startled. It took him a moment to realize she'd obviously had already been here. They hadn't talked about this – they hadn't talked about much of anything.

"Sweetheart, _this_ is not messy." He chuckled, though unconvincingly, waving his hand, walking toward the bed, and then began stripping the sheets.

"What are you doing?" She folded her arms, leaning against the frame of the door; his odd behavior momentarily pushed aside her discomfort of being in this room.

Edward held the bundle of sheets and blanket in his arms and awkwardly picked up the glass with his hand. He shrugged and asked where her washing machine was as he walked past her.

She wondered if he noticed the color of the linens he had in his arms.

Bella went to her closet and retrieved the portable safe from a high shelf - her passport buried among the mass of investment certificates, a few thousand dollars, and other unimportant items. She'd always paid cash for everything, the IRS and federal government alike would never take kindly to how she earned her money in the past.

Edward held his blackberry to his ear, assuring his assistant, Kathryn, he'd give her a few added vacation days if she would go to his home and pack the items he'd need for his trip. She agreed without hesitation, and not for the promise of extra time off, but because she was loyal to Mr. Cullen. They arranged to meet at the airport two hours prior to his flight's scheduled departure time. He then gave Kathryn enough work related instructions to cover the next four days.

Bella asked Edward why he changed his mind about going to his apartment himself. He placed his hands on her cheeks.

"I don't want to be away from you any more than I have to." He leaned in to kiss her, slow, soft, his thumbs gently glided over her cheekbones, and she threaded her hands through his hair.

A few hours later, the two sat side by side on Air France flight 023. Estimated arrival times were announced over the intercom spoken first in English and then in French.

The plane began to taxi down the runway. Bella looked around at the other passengers: a balding and stout, older man in a wrinkled suit sat adjacent to her, a young couple who were chatting animatedly in French sat two rows ahead, and a woman who was sitting just one row in front of her was looking at a picture on her cell phone, clearly ignoring the request to turn off all electronic devices. Bella squinted; she surreptitiously leaned forward a little to get a better view. The picture was of a bouquet of roses and by the way the woman cradled her phone, Bella wondered if the flowers might have been a parting gift which had been confiscated before she boarded the plane. She felt sad for the woman if her assumptions were true, yet her skin tingled feeling Edward's hand in hers. She looked at the woman's picture of the arrangement once more, unexpectedly struck by a whimsical memory. Bella laughed to herself.

"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling.

Bella shook her head. "I like flowers."

* * *

a/n: Thank you so much for reading.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N: Katinki, sncmom, and askthemagic8ball are pretty amazing people. When this fic is complete, I'd like to buy them a pony.

Thanks so much for reading, reviewing and adding this fic to your alerts and favorite lists.

* * *

"What's this one?" Edward asked, holding the leafy stem of a bloom with tiny pink petals.

"I have no idea." She laughed and pointed to the container. "What does it say?"

"Don't know - I don't read French." He smiled and put the flower back.

Their fingers intertwined as they walked at a lazy pace. The street and sidewalk were covered in a wet glaze from the sudden, but short, rain shower, and Edward's hair was a flat mess – he hadn't ducked under a restaurant awning as quickly as Bella had.

"I thought you liked flowers," he said.

"I do, but that doesn't mean I know every genus there is." She side-glanced him as he did the same but with a smirk. She sighed. "When I was younger, when things were… pseudo-normal, I picked flowers: wildflowers, ones my mother grew… the neighbors', and I had fun arranging them. I pressed them, hung them in my room to dry. I got in trouble a few times because some of the flowers had bugs, but I didn't know. They were pretty; it's not like I tried to infest our house intentionally." Edward squeezed her hand. "Anyway, even as I got older, I thought it would be something I'd like to do." She shrugged as Edward steered them toward what he assumed might be a good place to get coffee.

The bell jingled as he opened the door. "So, is that something you still want to do?"

"I don't know. I mean, I haven't really given it much thought."

"Maybe you should." He nodded toward a table.

Bella picked up a menu after they were both seated, able to decipher just enough to know what she wanted to order. Edward raked is hands through his damp hair, and she laughed.

"What?"

"Nothing… I love you."

They did everything imaginable during the few days they were in Paris. They visited an art museum and the Sacré Coeur basilica, knowing they'd both be in trouble with Jasper if they hadn't. The dined on heavy foods and rich wine, and they danced until their feet were sore. Bella snapped pictures of Edward posing in front of fountains, and of course, the Eiffel Tower. She surreptitiously took candid photos of him in their hotel room as well – ones they'd not share with anyone else. Edward thought it only fair that he be granted the same opportunities thus taking the camera away from Bella. He took several pictures of her while she slept which she threatened to delete if he kept it up.

Edward and Bella spent their last two days wandering the city, and the fact neither were fluent in French hadn't stifled their vacation at all; they knew enough to get by. They were exhausted when they returned to their suite, but they still stayed awake for hours more, tangling themselves in the soft sheets of the hotel bed not caring how loud they had been once or twice. Bella commented how much she enjoyed the oversized bath tub, and he told her he'd buy her one for Christmas.

He did.

On Christmas Eve, the two sat in front of the small tree in Bella's apartment, the room illuminated only by the lights strung on the tree and a few burning candles. She arched a brow as she opened an envelope. Inside, there was a picture of a white, claw footed bath tub.

"My bathroom isn't big enough for this!" She smacked his knee with the envelope, and he pulled her by the lapel of her bathrobe until she lay on top of him.

"Then I guess remodeling is in order."

"You're too much."

Edward tucked her hair behind her ears. "Am I?"

"Yes." She leaned in to kiss him, his hands sliding under the silk of her nightgown, and she laughed as his fingers feathered up her sides. "I have something for you, too." Bella begrudgingly pushed herself off Edward and ran into her bedroom.

He propped himself up on his elbows and smiled broadly, watching Bella shuffle toward him, a cheeky grin on her face and a small package wrapped in shiny green paper in her hands.

"What is it?" he asked.

She rolled her eyes. "Open it and find out."

Edward slowly and meticulously pulled at each fold. He taunted her until out of sheer frustration she reached over and ripped the paper off herself.

"I thought you might want to save the paper," he joked.

"Uh huh."

He lifted the lid, theatrically tossing it behind him which earned him another smack on the knee. Edward looked down into the box. "Oh, Bella… I love it."

"You do?"

"Mm hm. Thank you." He grabbed her hand, and she curled herself between his legs. They stared at the digital slide show of the two of them from their recent trip to Paris. "I think I'll put this on my desk at… oh, never mind." Bella laughed and chewed at her thumb nail as the shot of her standing on the steps inside the Louvre was followed by one of a sudsy Edward in the shower.

"I thought you deleted these," he said, rubbing the back of her neck, and hit the pause button when a shot of Bella lying in bed barely covered by a sheet came on the screen.

"Empty threat." She turned and kissed the underside of his chin.

"Good for me." Edward grinned. He dipped his head, tugging at her hair, and she looked up at him. "I love you."

With January came heavy snow, and, in turn, the shuffling of Bella's appointments with Gabriel. She was on a weekly schedule, and she was happy. Bella counted on her sessions as part of her routine; she'd become accustomed to devoting an hour of every Tuesday, tapping into her psyche, venting, or simply talking. But due to the erratic weather, as soon as Gabriel's appointments were rescheduled, they'd need to be adjusted once again. Gabriel checked in with Bella via telephone, but it was certainly not the same. She found his office to be comforting but not always easy. Edward worked long hours; Bella never minded. She'd also gotten used to his routine as well as his nights and weekends away with Senna. Regardless of occasional lunch dates she had with Jasper, Bella was beginning to feel claustrophobic stuck inside her apartment.

The city had finally plowed the sidewalks enough so it was relatively easy to walk without trudging through a foot of snow or slipping on the ice. Bella donned a pair of boots and bundled herself in fleece and wool before stepping outside. The sun shone brightly, yet it warmed nothing; the arctic air whipped and lashed at her cheeks, and her eyes watered. She thought about turning back, calling it a day, but then she'd be forced to spend her afternoon with dragged out plot lines of soap operas or staged court room reality shows. Bella needed a job.

She shoved open a glass door, the wind ruffling papers lying on the counter next to a cash register. Bella breathed in the spicy ambrosial aroma as she removed her hat and gloves.

"Be right with you!" a deep voice called from somewhere in the shop.

"Um, okay." Bella ambled around, her fingers gliding over silk and fresh petals. The store barren of customers, yet every square inch was filled with vases and arrangements, and the entire back wall was lined with chillers with glass doors which held countless roses in every color.

"What can I do for you?" asked a plump man with russet skin and graying hair.

She hesitated, feeling nervous and silly for even thinking there was a possibility someone would hire her.

"Did you want to place an order?" he asked.

_Screw it._ "No, but I was wondering if you needed any help… I'm looking for a job." She lifted her brow hopefully.

"Well, no, we're not." Her face fell. "_But_ Valentine's Day is coming up, and I'm sure you can guess we get real busy 'round here. Do you have any experience?"

"Technically… no."

He nodded. "What's your name?"

"Bella."

He offered his hand. "Bella, I'm Harry." Harry pursed his lips. "Okay, I've got a good feeling about you. We'll see how you do over the next few weeks and then after business is back to normal, we'll see where we are."

"Really?"

A woman with the same dark skin and jet black hair rounded the corner awkwardly carrying a cardboard box; she plopped it down on the counter.

"Sue, this is Bella. She's going to help us out over the next few weeks. Bella, my wife, Sue."

"Oh, yeah? I didn't know we were hiring," Sue said, eyeing Harry.

Bella tensed, fearing she'd lose this job as quickly as she'd found it; perhaps the wife could see right through her. But Bella reminded herself she was doing nothing wrong; she was merely seeking employment.

"Hi, Bella. Harry, can you get me the clippers from the back?" Harry nodded then disappeared as Sue moved around the counter. "My husband always had a soft spot for pretty girls." She winked and nudged Bella with her elbow; Bella's anxiety faded.

There was kindness in Sue's eyes; she gave off an aura of comfort as she gave Bella a quick tour around the shop. They agreed Bella would start the following day.

"Guess what," Bella said into her phone when she arrived back home.

"What?" Edward asked.

"I am now a working class citizen."

He chuckled. "You got a job? When? Where?"

"Clearwater Florists."

"Aw, babe, that's fantastic. We'll celebrate tonight."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later – love you."

Winter quietly abandoned the city, and spring announced its arrival without regret. Soggy ground dried, and lush, green grass carpeted every area not already covered by asphalt or cement. Bella's days had become filled with work; she'd even go in on her days off, stating she didn't need to be paid, that she loved her job and wanted to learn everything there was to know about the business. Harry boasted about her enthusiasm, stating his instincts were always right; Sue worried she'd burn out. Bella promised that wouldn't happen, but when a former client of hers had walked into the shop one day, Bella nearly had a panic attack and hid in the back until he left. She feigned an unexpected sour stomach; Sue wasn't a fool and told Bella she'd become part of the family. She said families don't keep secrets from each other and if she ever wanted to talk…

"I can't tell her," Bella said, sitting opposite Gabriel.

"What's the worst that could happen?"

She scoffed. "They'd look at me with disgust."

"You can't be sure, Bella. You need to learn to trust."

"I trust you," she said. "I trust Jasper and Edward."

"Yes, and that's a start."

"I'm not willing to risk my friendship with the Clearwaters."

"It's not much of a friendship if you can't-"

"I know, I know… just not yet. I've only known them for a couple of months."

He raised his hands. "All right then, how's everything else?"

"Good."

"_Good_," he mimicked. "Have you and Edward talked any more about integrating Senna into your relationship?"

"We have, and we really just want to take things slow. Maybe in a few more months."

"Is that a joint decision, or is there one of you leaning more toward one way than the other?"

"Joint, I guess. I'm not ready to meet her, and he says we can wait as long as it takes."

"So no pressure?"

Bella shifted in her seat. "No, he's patient." Gabriel cocked his head to the side. "I mean, he's never said or done anything to make me feel like I need to hurry up and become the perfect role model for Senna."

"Perfect role model? Whose words are those?"

She sighed. "Mine."

He nodded and glanced at the clock on the wall behind Bella. "Okay. I want you to think about the worst and best case scenarios if you began to open up to Sue and Harry. From what you're telling me, it sounds as if they really like you. I want you to imagine what it would be like to have people outside your protective circle of Edward, Jasper, and me to like you for who you are… unconditionally."

"Okay. I'll see you next week." She rose and gathered her purse and jacket. "Oh! Did you like the arrangement from Edward and me for your anniversary?"

"Yes! I'm so sorry we didn't call to thank you – it's stunning. You put it together?" She nodded, smiling. "You have a gift."

Three days later, Jasper knocked on Bella's door, a bottle of wine in one hand and a brown paper bag which concealed a tub of Ben & Jerry's Chubby Hubby in the other.

"Ready to get your ass kicked, Swan?"

"Ha! Dream on, Reyes… excuse me, _Whitlock-Reyes_."

Jasper entered Bella's apartment and put the ice cream into the freezer. "So." He clapped and rubbed his hands together. "Where are we playing?"

"On the balcony? It's a nice night."

Twenty minutes into Scrabble, Jasper accused Bella of cheating and maintained "xanadu" was not an acceptable word, especially when she tried to sneak it into the triple word space which tallied forty-five points in her favor.

"It's a word," she defended.

"It's a bad 80's movie."

"Fine." She took back her tiles and reclaimed the triple word space with a three letter word, earning her a mere fraction of the previous word's total. "What are you up to this weekend?"

"I'm playing bachelor actually."

"Why? What's Gabriel doing?"

Jasper sipped his wine as he studied his tiles. "Well." He sat back in his chair and smiled. "He's meeting Leah."

"What!"

"Yeah, she called him. She wants to talk, said she wants to bury the hatchet. She's getting married in the fall; we think she wants to start her life with a clean slate so to speak."

Bella smiled. "That's great. I'm happy for him – and you."

"Me too."

"Well, since you're free, and it's Edward's weekend with Senna, so I'm free, wanna go see a movie? I have to work both days, but I have no plans tomorrow night."

"You paying since you're a working woman?"

"Of course!"

"Then it's a date."

Jasper ended up beating Bella by over sixty points. She blamed the wine; he rolled his eyes, but she was still ahead by seven games in the grand total.

Bella lay in bed, flipping through a book while she waited for Edward's nightly call.

"Hey," she said, answering on the first ring.

"I miss you."

"Me too. Are you having fun?"

"We are, but I'm not sure I can handle the zoo again tomorrow. How many times can a little girl look at baby tigers?"

She laughed. "Plenty."

"Apparently."

"God, I miss you." She sunk down into the bed and closed her eyes.

"Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, it's great… I just, I don't know. Jasper and I had fun tonight, and I want to curl up next to you."

"Sunday. I'll be there as soon as I drop off Senna. Take off on Monday, and we'll spend the entire day in bed or whatever you want to do."

"I'm already off on Monday," she said.

"Perfect… I love you."

Spring gave way to the suffocating heat and humidity of summer. Edward and Bella had taken a few excursions to the beach a few hours away. The sun kissed their skin, bronzing their pale complexions. They swam in the blue-black water and bobbed atop the surface and drifted in the currents. They made love on the beach after sunset.

Edward's business thrived, keeping him at the office even longer than usual. After Harry had a mild heart attack, Bella worked at the flower shop every day so Sue could spend more time at the hospital. Sue told Bella because she trusted them enough to share a few painful details of her personal life, she trusted Bella implicitly with the shop.

Still, Edward and Bella made the most of their lessened time together.

They also had their first fight.

"It's different for them!"

"It's going to be like that for us, too, Bella, you'll see."

"I know it is, but you can't fix everything! Don't you think I'm happy for Gabriel and Leah? I am, but Edward I'm scared."

"Senna will love you. No one says it has to be tomorrow or the next day, but I want to talk about it."

"I'm not ready."

"Fine." Edward lifted his hands in defeat as he walked away. He filled a glass with tap water and drummed his fingers against the counter. "I'm going to see Dr. Saunders next week. She's the therapist Gabriel recommended."

Bella gathered her hair into a pony tail and fanned her neck. "Why?"

"Because I can't navigate this like I thought I could."

She shrugged and walked away. "That's reasonable. Crazy girlfriend and all… I get it."

"God dammit, Bella!" He ran after her. "Don't say shit like that. My seeing this shrink is not all about you, okay? I'm running a company, I'm a divorced, single dad, and I'm out of my fucking mind in love with a woman who may or may not decide again one day that she can't handle life and leave me. So forgive me if things get a little overwhelming at times."

The color in her face vanished; she balked, her mouth was slack. "I'm sorry."

He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes to the floor. "I'm sorry, too."

"I didn't think how hard-"

"Some days it is, but for the most part it's not."

Bella walked toward him, stopping a hair's breadth away. "I'm sorry. I love you."

Summer seemed to have gone by in a flash when fall arrived. However, the crisp air was a welcomed change. Layers of red and gold and orange blanketed most of the ground in the park. A three foot tall Spiderman carrying a bag decorated with a smiley pumpkin ran in front of Edward and Bella as they walked along the wide, paved trail. A few of the benches were occupied, some empty, but the park was fairly crowded for a weekday afternoon.

Bella burrowed her nose in her scarf, grasping her coffee in both hands to warm them. Edward pulled her close. He rubbed his hand vigorously up and down her arm, hoping the friction would take away some of the chill from the late October air. They side-stepped a small pile of leaves which swirled and hovered above the ground from the wind.

"Sue mentioned that she and Harry want to retire soon… she asked if I'd be interested in taking over the shop," Bella said.

"Oh, yeah?" Edward gestured toward the coffee in Bella's hands; he then took a sip after she handed it to him.

"Mm hm. Can you imagine?"

"Well, sure, why not? You always put so much sugar in your coffee," he teased, wrinkling his nose and gave the cup back to her; she nudged him with her shoulder. "Do you want to?"

A few more costumed children ran past Edward and Bella, screeching and laughing. Bella turned to watch a little girl dressed as a witch wrestle with her costume while trying to run to keep up with the others.

"I don't know. I mean Harry and Sue would technically still be the owners, but all decisions would be up to me. It's a lot to think about."

"It is, but you'd be great at it – you're practically running the store now as it is anyway. I'll support whatever you decide – you know that. Do you want to list all the pros and cons tonight after-"

"Daddy!"

Bella quickly stepped away from Edward at the sight of the little girl with bright green eyes, her heart racing. He crouched to his knees as Senna darted toward him. Edward glanced up at Bella; the two exchanged guarded smiles before Edward's daughter jumped into his arms nearly knocking him backward.

"What are you doing here?" Senna asked - a touch out of breath - and she wrapped her little hands around Edward's neck. "Do you like my costume? You're coming tonight, right?"

"Of course, I do, honey – I was there when you picked it out, remember? I almost didn't recognize you in this red wig and cowboy hat."

"It's a cow_girl_ hat. Toy Story Jesse is a cow_girl_." Senna rolled her eyes, exasperatedly drawing out the "girl" for the sake of her father's comprehension.

"My apologies."

Bella shifted her feet, shoving one hand into her coat pocket, but remained silent.

"Are you here with your mom?" Edward asked, shooting a sideways glance toward Bella as he stood with Senna in his arms.

"She's coming. Claire brought me."

Edward craned his neck, searching for the nanny. "And where is Claire?"

Senna squirmed until Edward put her down. "She's over there. Come on, I want to show you what I did in school today."

"Okay, but first… Senna, this is my friend, Bella."

Bella prayed Senna didn't recognize her from the restaurant from so long ago, and particularly her grotesque offer.

She swallowed as Senna looked her over. "Hi," Bella said and took a step forward. Her voice sounded shaky and too high in her ears.

"Hello," Senna replied. "Do you want to see what I made at school today, too?"

Bella smiled. Edward beamed.

"Oh," she started and looked toward Edward before checking her watch. "Thank you, but I really should get going."

"Okay, come on, Dad."

"Hang on, sweetie," Edward said as Senna tugged at his hand. He turned to Bella. "Already?" Bella tilted her head, a pleading look on her face; she wasn't ready for this, nor was she prepared to see Edward's ex-wife. "Okay," Edward acquiesced, understanding. "I'll call you later."

Bella nodded and raised her hand to wave goodbye to both Edward and his daughter. She turned, walking back toward the flower shop; Bella had just twenty minutes remaining in her break. She strolled at an easy pace, tossed her empty coffee cup in a waste bin bolted in the ground, and tipped her head back for a moment as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds. Bella allowed the sun to warm her face, albeit quickly; bellied laughter from a little boy sounded to her left, and she looked in his direction. Her palms were still damp, and her nerves were still tight from the unexpected run-in with Edward's daughter. A dull ache appeared in her chest as she watched the little boy with the deep giggles be tickled by his mother. This particular ache was one she'd never thought she'd experience, and it stemmed from the vision of Edward's genuine smile when he saw Senna.

The vast window of the shop decorated in autumn swags, pumpkins, and ornate script stating the store's name was now in her view - just across the bustling street - as Bella neared the edge of the park.

"Excuse me," said a woman, her voice even and determined. Quick clicks of heels grew louder behind Bella, and she turned.

The women, one severely blonde and immaculately dressed, and the other, a soft brunette and more subtly attired, stood rigid, facing each other. Bella's hands clenched, her nails digging into her palms, and the beat of her heart picking up pace once again as Edward's ex-wife glared down at her. Gwen was inches taller in her heels, and Bella took a few steps back; she'd not look up to this woman.

"I know who you are," Gwen said. "And I don't want you around my daughter." Her tone was calm, yet there was no mistaking her blunt warning.

"Pardon me?" Bella's expression hard, she then inhaled, relaxing her defense, deciding it best to avoid a confrontation. "Neither of us knew Senna was going to be here; it was a coincidence."

"You don't get to say her name, and frankly, I really don't care. I also don't care what you do with my ex-husband, but I'll be damned if I'll let a whore near my daughter. Do you understand?"

"Where do you get off…" Bella said. "I am not-"

"Oh no? Sure you are; leopards don't change their spots."

Bella shoved her hands inside her pockets, her body hot with anger. "Really? Then I suppose you're off to buy another shovel for all that gold you plan on digging."

"Don't get smart with me; I'm not one to be toyed with. Besides, people will find out… they always do-"

"Why? Why would you say anything? You'll do nothing but ruin Edward."

She laughed. "_I'll_ ruin Edward? I think anything that happens to him will be in your hands, not mine; his business, his family - you're the reason we're not together any longer."

"That's a lie, and you know it. The two of you had nothing together," Bella spat.

"Whatever was between Edward and me is none of your concern. I haven't said anything about his extracurriculars, and I don't intend to, either. I have a reputation, one I plan to protect. But people will find out, and when they do, I can play the part of the innocent, blindsided wife like nobody's business."

"You're unbelievable. I won't let you come between Edward and me."

"That's not what this is about, you stupid little tramp!" Bella's cheeks flushed with anger as Gwen removed her leather glove from her left hand, flashing the quarter-sized diamond she wore on her finger. "I'm getting remarried, so my ex can screw whomever he'd like… except for you. _You_, I have a problem with. Like I said, my only concern is for my daughter… She asks for him nearly every day, and because of your furtive arrangement she only fits in when he's not with you. It's really too bad he didn't fall for someone without such a shameful past; she's suffering from your mistakes – so is he."

"Go to hell," Bella growled, but her steely front began to crack.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I'll never understand why he wants to protect you so much. Hasn't he told you that he and I have had this conversation? No? Oh, yeah, I've already warned him – why do you think he's kept you away from her for this long?

"Can you honestly tell me how Edward will explain to his seven year old little girl that her daddy's girlfriend used to have paid sex with God knows how many men _and_ broke up his marriage? Because, _Bella_, people will find out. I won't tell you again… stay away from her."

Bella opened her mouth, but nothing came out; everything Gwen said was true – Bella was still Edward's secret. Gwen stormed away and stinging tears pricked at the corners of Bella's eyes.

Bile rose in her throat, and with shaking legs, she walked blindly across the street. She passed the flower shop and walked for blocks, her head swimming, her limbs numb, until she arrived at her apartment door.

**/**

"Bella?" Edward called as he closed the door of her apartment behind him. He was exhausted, his feet sore from what seemed like miles of walking while trick or treating with Senna. Edward dropped his keys on the side table in front of a black and white photograph of Bella and him. He toed off his shoes, shoving them next to hers.

"In here," she answered.

"Hi, gorgeous." Edward slithered out of his jacket as he entered her room. He then tossed it in the plush chair in the corner and wrapped his arms around her waist, peppering kisses up and down her neck, and she laughed.

"You smell like chocolate and… outside," she noted, her hands splayed over his shoulders.

"Outside?"

"Mm hm. Like air and sweat… don't laugh at me!"

"No, no," he amended, chuckling, his lips pressed to her neck. "If you like it, I'll make sure to take a jog around the block before I come over each time… Are you catching a cold? You sound a little stuffy."

"Yeah, I don't know, maybe. I feel fine," she lied. She'd done nothing but cry since she'd been home.

Edward walked her backward to the bed; they stumbled and grappled at each others' clothes along the way.

"You smell like wine and vanilla," he said, watching her fumble with the buttons of her shirt before he removed his.

"Yeah?" Bella slid off her jeans, kicking them to the side then sat on the edge of the bed. "I may have had a little bit before you got here." She leaned back, her hands supporting her from behind and cocked her head to the side. She smirked, intoxicated – another glass and her speech would be slurred. Edward kneeled in front of her, spreading her knees gently then kissed the insides of her thighs.

"I like these." Edward traced the hem of her scarlet panties with a finger and then kissed her through the lacy material.

"Of course you do."

"I missed you." He smiled then lowered his head, nipping and licking and kissing some more until finally tugging the side of the fabric, exposing her flesh. Edward removed the undergarment, she lay back, and he hooked her thighs over his shoulders.

Bella lie wordlessly, gripping the blanket, her eyes shut tightly, feeling the warmth and wet of Edward's mouth on her. She writhed, lifting her hips as he sucked harder, his fingers and thumb working her perfectly, and she began to let go. "Not yet," she gasped, and he groaned in disappointment. "Come here."

She scooted farther up the bed, away from Edward's mouth and removed her bra. Edward rose from the floor, unfastened his pants, and let them fall to his ankles. He stripped off his remaining clothing and crawled onto the bed. Slowly, Edward licked and kissed her sides, her stomach, her breasts; he took his time tasting her skin, touching her hips and arms lightly, tickling and hovering and teasing.

Bella dragged her nails over his arms and his back. "I love you," she said. _It's going to be okay._

"I love you, too."

Their lips met, sweet and slow until becoming fast and urgent. "I love you so much," she mumbled and grasped Edward's face; she held him tightly to her, rubbing her thumbs over his unshaved cheeks.

"Me too, more than anything," he said, finding his way inside her. He rocked his hips against her, hers meeting his with each thrust. "I love you, Bella." He dragged his mouth along her jaw, and she pulled at his hair, winding her feet around his legs.

Knots tightened in her stomach as his scent wafted around her.

"Harder."

He pumped harder, faster at her request.

The knots turned to churning.

"Harder, Edward. Come on, fuck me."

"Jesus," he breathed, lustful, wanting and needing to be further inside. Their bodies glistened from sweat, and he wrapped her hair around his fingers.

"Pull," she demanded, her voice throaty, and he did. She smiled seductively, and her eyes darkened, but her expression was very different from late; it was empty. "Again," she panted; he yanked harder, and she rewarded him with what he interpreted as sweet sounds of pleasure.

Edward released her hair, keeping up pace with his hips – he was close. The build and rise strengthening, he bowed his head to reach her breast and sucked and licked her nipple.

She couldn't focus, her mind blurred and spun; he was there, loving her. She could feel him and smell him and taste him, and oh god, he tasted so good, but her head screamed this was wrong. _What about tomorrow?_ her conscious shouted, and she had only the strength to feel nothing.

Bella shifted underneath him. "Wait, wait," she said and reached toward her bedside table. She pulled open the drawer, her hand frantically searching for the material she'd sometimes used as an overlay on the nightstand. Edward slowed, she nodded, her eyes wide. "Here." Bella wrapped the cloth around her neck. "I'm almost there."

"What are you doing?" he asked. She encouraged him to take the short ends in his hands; he didn't and stilled his body. "No… you don't need this. We don't do this anymore."

Bella moved her hips beneath him, prodding him, begging him to continue. "It's okay. It's only you, Edward… just for you. Here, pull."

"No." He looped his fingers around the cloth, loosening it. "Wh- what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong… move, please, I'm so close." Bella pulled at the ends of the material, her eyes clenched shut. "Move, Edward… please." Her brow wrinkled; she focused, concentrated to fight off tears.

"Stop it, Bella," he pled, slipping out of her, freeing her hands of the scarf. "Talk to me." Panic amplifying in his tone, and he loosened her binding again. "Did something happen? You're scaring me."

"No, dammit, would you just… come on," she urged; she was dizzy. _Don't stop now_, she thought. _I can't…_ _I can't. _

Edward straightened his arms, lifting himself off her. "Bella, what the hell is going on?"

She momentarily froze, defeated; the churning in her stomach morphed into a burn.

She covered her eyes with one hand, pushing him away with the other as she rolled to her side. "Go away." She began to sob, and the burn climbed into her throat. "I can't be with you anymore." Bella curled her knees, folding into herself and grabbed the cloth away from her neck, throwing it to the floor. "Just go, Edward."

Her words sliced him; he scrambled to lie next to her, pulling her into his arms. "You don't mean that. I love you. We're together - we're always going to be together." She pushed her elbow back, but he held her tighter, trapping her hands in his. "I'm not leaving. I love you." He repeated this over and over, kissing the back of her shoulder, her neck, her ear, and he held her against him with every possible inch of his body.

"I don't understand, Bella."

"You have to go."

"Why? No! I'm not-"

"It's not going to work out with us… I can't do this any more." She lay with him for mere seconds, but it was too long, too much. They were finished; she couldn't have him any more. Bella wriggled her way out of his grasp and off the bed. She began to dress and refused to look at him as she spoke.

"You can't do what?" His voice louder; she shuddered. "What the fuck is going on?" he shouted. Bella moved about the room, silently, nervously straightening things that needn't be straightened. "Tell me!"

"Nothing _happened_, Edward! You and I just shouldn't be together, all right? Like I said, it's not going to work, and I want you to leave. Now. Please, go!" she yelled and hurried out of the room.

Edward shoved his legs into his pants as he ran after her into the hall. He grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. "Five minutes ago you said how much you love me. This doesn't make sense – I'm not stupid, Bella. What the hell is going on? What was that back there?" His grip softened, and he moved his hands to hold her dampened face. "You know we can't do the things we used to do. I'd never deny you anything except… _that_. What changed? You tell me right now why you don't want to feel me." He kissed her forehead, keeping his lips pressed there as his eyes filled with tears.

She pushed him away, wiping her face with the back of her hand. "We don't belong together," she rasped.

"Yes, we do! How can you say that?"

She shook her head and fixed her eyes on the floor while he stared at her. She visibly trembled, and each time he reached out his hand to touch her, she flinched away. Moments passed, and Edward waited, his heart pounding in his chest. He told himself she was just having a bad day, that this would pass and Bella would realize she didn't mean any of what she said. His therapist had warned him to be prepared, to expect not every day to be perfect.

Bella licked her lips and took in a deep breath before finally speaking. "You were so happy at the park today, and that's how it's supposed to be."

"Yeah, because I was with you."

"No, Edward." She painfully repeated an abridged version of Gwen's words as if they were her own, and she believed every single one.

He argued with her, told her she was being ridiculous and that they should talk to Gabriel or his therapist together. She argued back and told him he was blind. He rambled on, saying this was just a bump and they could easily figure out a solution. Edward reminded her they agreed to take things slowly, and if it were up to him things would be moving faster.

"I'll do whatever it takes, Bella, just please don't do this!"

"Why don't you understand, Edward?" Bella looked directly into his eyes. "I'm not worth lying for. You have to let me go!"

"You're everything to me, Bella… please," his voice raw.

"You're not being fair to me or Senna. You can't have both of us without hurting the other, Edward."

There was a low hum in his ears, his mouth went dry. "I can't lose you."

Bella swallowed, forcing down the lump in her throat. "I was never supposed to have you."

"We can make it work," he said, repeating his earlier argument, but she said no. "Last year, when I came to Gabriel's and you were in the pool... you told me to never leave. Do you remember?"

"Edward, please…"

"Don't do this."

"I'm sorry." She covered her face with her hands, crying, and took a step back. Edward lunged forward and pulled her to him.

He clutched her, begging her to change her mind between kissing her, tasting the salt from her tears on her cheeks and lips. Bella pleaded with him to stop, but she held him just as tightly.

Edward's arms ached, yet he still wouldn't loosen his grip even though his gut told him she was right. He'd never stop loving her, and he'd continue their relationship in a heartbeat if she'd allow it, but reality was too overpowering. Edward became painfully aware they'd been living a fantasy without consequences.

Finally, he released her and crossed his arms over his torso. "I'm never going to see you again," he said.

She barely shook her head no.

The next several days, Edward was nothing more than a functioning zombie. At night, he stayed in Bella's apartment. Some nights he'd get drunk, and on one such evening, he threw the black and white photo of them against the wall, shattering the glass, and a small hole was left in the drywall. Other nights he stayed sober, wishing he was drunk and waited. Edward waited for her to change her mind, willing her to come back.

She didn't.

* * *

A/N: so... yeah. One more chapter.


	8. Chapter 8

He should only have had another twenty minutes before reaching his destination. It was late spring, and it was pouring. Rain pelted against the windshield; Edward leaned forward against the steering wheel, looking up at the sky. _Typical_, he thought, noting the purple and black clouds and then sat back again, his foot in constant motion between the brake and accelerator. He texted a message on his Blackberry while waiting to inch his car forward once more; the exit he needed to take was close, but due to the snail's pace on the expressway it may as well have been another hundred yards away.

"She'd never forgive me for being late," he mumbled and flicked the defroster on high. _But then again, she'd have no idea_.

Edward began to think about the highs and lows of his past – after all, wasn't this supposed to be a time to reminisce?

"_Have you heard anything?" _

"_Nothing since she called to say goodbye," Jasper said. "Edward, I'm so sorry."_

"_Everything is gone. I don't know how or when she did it, but the locks have been changed, and I think her apartment is empty. There's a For Sale sign in the window – did you see it?" Jasper just cocked his head. "The realtor won't give me any information; it's like he was told not to tell me anything… Where is she?" _

"_I don't know."_

Edward shook away that memory and hit the turn signal. Luckily, the driver in the adjacent lane was polite and permitted him access to the exit.

His Blackberry vibrated. "I know," he answered aloud after having read the reply. He tossed his phone into the passenger seat and shifted the car into third and then fourth gear. He continued forward smoothly, quickly even, until coming to a standstill once again – taillights flashed red, blurred and misshapen, snaking as far as he could see. "You've got to be kidding me."

Edward reached toward the glove box and pulled out an envelope; it was pale yellow, heavier than it should have been, and the script on the front was basic, simple. He placed it next to his phone so as not to forget it when he finally arrived.

_It had been close to a year since he'd seen her, close to a year since he'd heard her voice and felt her touch, and there was a hole inside him that he'd never want mended. If it had, if he allowed himself to go through the proper stages of loss, grief, and mourning, and, finally, acceptance, he'd lose the hurt, and therefore he'd lose her. Edward had never considered himself able to fall victim to gluttony, but if it meant that his need to hold onto Bella could only be fulfilled through greedily keeping and even encouraging the phantom pain in his heart to thrive, then so be it._

_His meticulous methods at work had slackened. His staff had wondered if a change was coming, if they should have begun to seek employment elsewhere; Edward may have been lost inside himself, but he could still hear. His assistant, Kathryn, had assured him he had nothing to worry about, that his staff would remain loyal. He'd said he didn't care. The only time that had given him reprieve was his time with Senna. He'd doted on her, had spoiled her. He'd told her over and over again she was loved, and she was worthy. Edward made certain his daughter knew these things because Bella did not. _

_Edward's relationship with Jasper and Gabriel had weakened; the reminders had been too hard. One afternoon, Jasper had called Edward; he'd shared the news that Gabriel was going to become a grandfather in eight months thus making him one as well. Jasper had continued to speak of the news happily and lightheartedly, stating he was too young to be given such a title, and had thought about going by "Papa Jas." Without thinking, Edward had blurted that Bella would've been ecstatic about the news; Jasper had said she was._

_September _

_Dear Bella,_

_It's been a while since you left – but you know this already. A few weeks ago, Jasper let it slip that he spoke with you. He said you're doing well, but only after I harassed him to tell me (That was a joke. Sort of.) Please don't be angry with him, not assuming you would be, but for the record, he didn't mean to tell me, and I found your address on my own. When I first started this letter it was right after I found out you'd been in contact with him, and that you're practically living across the country, but my cowardice prevented me from sending it. Now, though, I think I'm being selfish, and for that I'm sorry. I just needed you to know I want the best for you. I want you happy, and I want you safe. I don't expect to hear back from you, and I'm so, so sorry that if by this, I cause you any distress. I understand why you left; you were the strong one. _

_You're so much more than you ever realized._

_Always,_

_Edward_

_He chose his words carefully; he didn't want to scare her nor did he want to give the impression he wanted to reconcile. Although, he would have done so in a heartbeat. As anticipated, Edward didn't hear from Bella immediately nor did he receive a hint from Jasper or Gabriel she'd even read his letter. He admonished himself several times over for mailing it in the first place, but there were too many "what if's" that'd run through his mind. Would she think him a bastard if he had not contacted her after knowing where she was? Would she think he hadn't cared? _

_After Edward had sent the letter to Bella, he checked his mailbox daily, hoping and waiting. Weeks upon weeks passed and there was nothing. _

_But then there was something. _

_His hand trembled, and he stared at the return address in a daze, holding his breath, too afraid to open the ivory envelope, yet too eager to not._

_Dear Edward,_

_I'm sorry I didn't reply sooner. To say I was shocked when your letter came in the mail is an understatement, but that's not necessarily a bad thing. I don't know how much, if anything, Jasper has told you because he's pretty tightlipped with me – yes, I've asked about you. How could I not? But at the risk of being redundant, things are going pretty well. I'm working full-time in a flower shop. Sue and Harry weren't very happy when I gave them my notice, but they understood. I am living practically across the country, obviously, and it's just so different. The pace is slower, and it rains – a lot. I'm renting a small house with a wonderful view of other small houses. It's not much, but I like it. It's quiet._

_I want you to be happy, too. I hope you are. It's been over a year, and I'm in a better place, but I'll never think of running as being strong. I hope you can forgive me. Do you know you're more than you realize, too?_

_Take care of yourself,_

_Bella_

_Within an hour, Edward drafted a response. _

_Dear Bella,_

_You didn't specify for me to not contact you… There's nothing to forgive. I was never angry with you – not once. You have no idea how relieved I was when I got your letter and to now know first hand that you're doing well is more than I expected. It's like a gift, one I'm not sure I deserve. I want to call you, but then I'm not so sure if that would be a good idea. You're also unlisted which tells me you don't want just anyone to have your number. You should know I haven't accessed the resources I have available to me either. I've never been a patient man, but I've learned restraint. It's not all it's cracked up to be, but I suppose that's not a bad thing. Regardless, I guess this is where we find closure because for one, I never thought your leaving was you running away, and two, I know somewhere you're breathing the same air I am, and you're living your life. But I'll reiterate – I understand why you left. It doesn't change what we had or how I feel about you, I hope you know that. Now, you're moving on, and I truly am happy for you._

_By the way, slower paces are good._

_Merry Christmas,_

_Edward_

_March_

_Dear Edward,_

_I'm having a hard time breaking our connection. Isn't that what we should be doing? Or should have already done? I thought I'd be able to not respond and tuck your letters away in a drawer, but I can't. Is that unhealthy? Do I even care? I'm not sure. Maybe I'm the one who's being selfish now. I've started seeing a therapist again; her name is Kate, and it's working out really well. She's sort of like a female version of Gabriel, but she's more formal. I won't bore you with the exercises she has me do, but they work. Who knew finding affirmations in your daily routine wouldn't be all that ridiculous? I told her about how we've written to each other, and in usual psychotherapist fashion, she basically said I needed to listen to my head and not my heart. The thing is, my head won't shut up because I can't imagine going on with the rest of my life not knowing if you're happy. You've yet to say that you are. So if it's closure we're supposed to find within the safety of writing, please tell me you're happy. _

_Slower paces are good except when you're late for work. I hope Senna is doing well. _

_Bella_

_p.s. There's something comforting about knowing we breathe the same air. I could never hate you. I'm not sure why you would even think that._

_May_

_Bella,_

_Am I happy? That's a loaded question. I would have responded to your letter immediately, but it's not safe… for me. It's hard, I won't lie, and I'm scared my admittance will ruin these little bits of sanity I find when I see your handwriting on a simple piece of paper. The restraint I learned is tested, and instead of mailing a response, I want to deliver it in person. I hope that doesn't scare you off. I still see Dr. Saunders, not as often, but I do. It's nice to have someone to talk to and to be completely honest and open with. She has not suggested exercises or affirmations, but instead, strategies which is probably the same thing. She also nods a lot. My company is about to sign a major contract with a corporation overseas. Their headquarters are in Russia, and I'm going to be there for a couple of weeks. Senna isn't happy about it, but otherwise she's doing great. She's growing like a weed and will probably be in braces within the next month or so. I think the orthodontist is jumping the gun, but what do I know? She especially likes visiting her new god-cousin, Emily. If you speak with Jasper again anytime soon, can you tell him that "Papa Jas" just sounds strange?_

_Hate is probably too strong of a word. Disappointed, maybe? You've tried to break our connection; I don't think that's possible, not as long as I continue to hold on. I'm sorry, but I can't help it._

_Edward_

_p.s. I couldn't sleep last night and ended up watching the sun rise. I thought about you. To answer your question, yes, I'm happier than I have been. _

_August _

_Edward,_

_It's been almost two years, and still, every day I fight the urge to pick up the phone to call you and beg for you to fly out here. Connection was a poor word choice because you're right, it can't ever be broken. Contact would have been better. So what do we do? Should I have taken what you said about being happier than you have been as goodbye? Is that what you were saying? I think I need the finality of that word because right now, all I want to do is hop on a plane. And if I do that today or tomorrow or even the next day, I wouldn't be able to leave, and that would bring us right back to where we were before. It killed me to walk out of my apartment and out on you that night. I sat in the lobby for an hour, you never came. Looking back now, though, I'm glad you didn't because inevitably one of us would have had to end it anyway. Doing that more than once would have been too much. I signed mortgage papers yesterday and now that small rental is mine. I'm taking business classes at night as well - so many things are changing for the better, but how I feel about you hasn't, and I don't think it ever will. _

_So, I must ask a favor of you, if you don't mind. Write back and tell me you've met someone else. You deserve to be with someone and not alone. _

_Bella_

_p.s. The gym I belong to has a pool, and I swim nearly every day. My restraint wavers, and I need you to be the strong one this time. _

_January_

_Bella,_

_I think this breakup we're trying to accomplish could win us a spot in the Guinness Book of World Records. It's never-ending, and surely that's worth something. I truly believe it's because neither of us wants it to be over. Or maybe I'm a hopeful idiot. If you knocked on my door, I wouldn't let you leave. Sometimes I close my eyes and try to remember what you smell like. I miss the sound of your voice; that memory is fading, too._

_I've overflowed my trash bin numerous times with discarded letters. I've written so many and have said things I'm not sure you'd want to read. Not bad things, but what I stated above is the gist of them. How is it possible to gain closure to something you know in your heart can't possibly be over? The docs would probably classify it as an inability to let go of the past; I would disagree. Call me stubborn or whatever you'd like because if I'm being honest, I don't want it. To know that for an entire hour you were only feet away the night you left is more torturous than you could ever imagine. But as you pointed out, some things are inevitable, and I hate that. Senna tells me I'm a slob because of the overflowing trash. She's oddly clean for a 9-1/2 year old. She's living with me for the majority of the time now. I won't go into all the details, but her mom and I came to a mutual understanding after I got back from Russia. The point is, Senna is happy, and I love being a full-time dad. I have a business partner now who will do all the traveling so that I can spend more time at home. Speaking of business – you're taking classes? And you own a house. Congratulations - that's really great news._

_I'm not alone; I spend all my free time with a young lady who is 4'11" tall, has light brown hair and green eyes. That's enough for me, but this is not. Call me, please. I'll say goodbye, but I want to hear your voice one more time. Think about it?_

_Always,_

_Edward_

_p.s. What's your take on second chances?_

_April_

_Edward,_

_Were you aware that your picture is shown next to the word "persistent" in the_ Merriam-Webster_ dictionary? Over the past three months, I've gone from being angry with you to wanting to indulge in you, and back to being angry again. You should see the amount of paper I've gone through, and, by the way, you should recycle. Despite the flux in my emotions over your last letter, I do believe in second chances. I think I'm living proof of that, but I know you were referring to the two of us. I was angry because you're making this very hard, and I want to indulge myself because I'm still in love with you. When I read each of your letters I was thrown into a tailspin. It took me a little while to recover, but I did. After the last one, though, I took a step back, a few times actually, and you know what? I realized I'm doing okay. My feet are planted here, and I need this. Most importantly, I need to know that I can, at the very least, survive on my own. My house is pretty old, and the roof started to leak. I quickly learned how to patch and paint the ceiling – it was a good feeling._

_I'm afraid if I give in, I'll lose myself in you because I do love you. So, I have a proposition for you: be my friend. I don't have class on Tuesday or Friday nights and usually work until 7 p.m. the other nights of the week. My number is 360-555-0523._

_Love,_

_Bella_

_p.s. Remember that thing about slower paces? It's not always about the traffic._

He wasn't sure how it happened, but during the time he was lost in thought, remembering the letters written between Bella and him, he'd driven for miles. The traffic jam was now far behind him; he looked into his rearview mirror seeing a steady stream of headlights. Edward glanced at the clock on his dash. "Shit!" he yelled, and pressed down further on the accelerator.

He also sped through a red light.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With the back of his hand, the police officer tapped on Edward's window.

"License and registration."

Edward squinted against the rain coming in through the open window as he looked up at the officer. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I know I went through a red light, but I'm on my way to a-"

"I don't care where you're going, buddy. You not only ran a red light, but you were also doing sixty in a forty-five. License and registration, please. And turn your car off – this could take a little while."

He rolled up his window and knocked his head back against the seat. His wallet lay open in his hand, a picture of Senna staring up at him.

"_Dad? Can I ask you a question?" _

"_Sure, honey. What's up?" Edward spun around in his chair behind his desk as he closed his laptop. _

_Senna sat on the arm of the small couch in Edward's office and dropped a black duffel bag onto the floor by her feet. _

"_You found the bag – good," he said. "How late does practice run?"_

"_Six, but I'm going to Jess's house after."_

"_What time are you leaving for practice, and are you driving Jess anywhere besides her house?"_

_She sighed. "I'm leaving at three, and we might swing through McDonald's after practice, but that's it. Okay? Are we finished with the inquisition?" She smiled._

_He smiled back. "Yes, and you'll text me when you get to Jess's?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Okay. Now what did you want to ask me?"_

"_Why don't you date?"_

"_What?"_

"_Date. Like take women out to dinner. You know, _socialize_?"_

"_I do things," he scoffed. "Why are you asking?"_

"_Dad, I never see you go out. You don't _do_ anything. It's like my father's a monk except for the fact that he doesn't wear a brown robe and has like a million love letters from someone named Bella hidden in his closet. Who is she?"_

"_Senna, did you read those letters? I don't appreciate you going into my things."_

_She picked up the duffel, swinging it from the edges of her fingers. "I wasn't snooping through your things; I was looking for this."_

"_Did you read those letters?" he asked again, punctuating each word. Never mind they were in a box on the highest shelf in his closet; that was now a moot point._

"_Just one. Who is she?"_

_Edward rubbed his hands on his knees and sighed audibly. "Which one?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_Which one did you read?"_

_Senna chewed at the inside of her cheek. "Um, the one that said she wouldn't marry you."_

"_Senna…" Edward shook his head, his eyes shut, his jaw clenched._

"_I thought we agreed to never have any secrets between us. Remember?"_

"_We don't."_

"_Apparently, we do. You've been sending letters back and forth for ten years, Dad! I looked at the postmark dates. Ten years! Why are you asking a complete stranger to marry you?"_

"_She's not a stranger, Senna. There are some things that are too hard to explain."_

"_She's a stranger to me. I'm seventeen, and I think I'm old enough to know why my dad is keeping this major part of his life from me!" _

"_Senna…" _

"_Do you still love her?"_

"_Now's not the time."_

"_You do, don't you?"_

"_Just… we'll talk later."_

"_Dad!"_

"_Later, Senna! Go to practice, and we'll talk when you get home!"_

_She rose, clutching the straps of the duffel and cautiously approached him. "Are you mad?"_

"_No… I'm sorry I yelled; it's just very complicated."_

_Senna stepped back, her expression grave. "Is she the woman you cheated on mom with?" _

"_What?"_

"_Yeah, I've kind of known about that for a while." _

_Edward's eyes widened; his mouth opened, yet he was only able to utter small, nonsensical noises. _

_Senna sat down on the couch, the leather crunching underneath her. She pulled her cell phone out of her bag. "I'll text Jess and tell her I can't make it today. Can you call coach and tell him I'm sick or something? I don't think I'll be able to focus, and this is kind of more important." She wiped her eye with the hem of her sleeve._

_Edward excused himself after agreeing to call Senna's lacrosse coach. Before he returned to his office to face his daughter, he drank a shot of bourbon._

_Their conversation was slow, awkward. She started, explaining how she'd overheard her mother talking to a friend about being suspicious of her current husband cheating just like her first. Senna told Edward how she'd confronted her mother, how they'd fought and how she'd called her mother a liar. Edward confessed, and Senna cried. She locked herself in her room for the remainder of the night. When she surfaced the following morning, Edward had breakfast waiting: blueberry pancakes and bacon. He told her he didn't expect forgiveness and apologized to her for what was probably the hundredth time. It took Senna close to a week before she'd speak to Edward again. When she finally did, Edward made certain Gabriel would be available because he was planning on telling Senna everything._

"_Jesus, Dad!"_

"_Senna…"_

"_Seriously? You not only cheated on mom, but you screwed a hooker?"_

"_Hey! I know this is overwhelming, but you need to watch your mouth." _

_She huffed. "Overwhelming? It's just wrong… on so many levels. I mean what happened to her when she was, what? Almost my age? That's sad and all, but still. You had an affair with a prostitute. How could you? It's gross!"_

"_Be mad at me all you want, okay? You have every right to be, but you will not be judgmental. I told you before it's very complicated."_

_She crossed her arms. The look of disgust on her face was nearly unbearable. "Yeah, complicated. That about sums it up."_

"_Enough." He jabbed his finger toward her. "Don't move." Edward stormed out of the room. Several minutes later, he came back into the kitchen. He slammed a stack of letters along with newly printed scans down on the table in front of Senna. "This is some of what I've written to her as well as some of her letters to me. Read them and then tell me how gross it is." _

"_So, are you telling me if I decided to sell my body, you'd be okay with it? Maybe I could pay my own way through college, and with the money I save you, you can spend it on-"_

"_Don't," he warned. "You know, for someone with a 4.35 GPA, you'd think your brain would have soaked up at least a fraction of an ounce of the tolerance I've tried to teach you. Your petulance is a little disappointing, too." He turned his back to her, angry, embarrassed, but most of all he feared the trusting relationship he had with Senna was finished. If not his relationship with her then certainly the one he'd had with Bella would be over._

"_Look, I get that this is a lot to swallow, more than any child should ever hear from a parent. I'm sorry I said anything at all, and it was clearly a bad decision – you're only seventeen, and it's a lot to put on your shoulders. I've made a few mistakes in my life, Senna, but you were never one of them. But now you know - read the letters; maybe you'll understand things a bit more."_

"_Why should I?" she asked, but her voice devoid of her previous anger._

"_Because I need you to… I'm going for a walk. I'll be back in about an hour, and I have my cell if you need to reach me."_

_When Edward returned, the house was eerily quiet. Senna's car was still in the driveway, and her bag still hung on the back of the kitchen chair, so he knew she hadn't left. He didn't call for her, instead, he waited. Later that evening, Senna finally emerged._

"_I have some questions," she said, peering into Edward's office._

"_Okay." He followed her into the family room._

"_How many times did you ask her to marry you?"_

"_Once."_

"_And she said no because of me?"_

"_Not because of you – never because of you. She said she refused to start a life with someone when there were too many hurdles."_

"_Me."_

"_Not you."_

"_You talk on the phone."_

"_Yes."_

"_And you've gotten together with her?"_

"_Yes."_

"_When? How many times?"_

"_Just once. That time you spent a month with your mom over the summer a couple of years ago."_

"_You haven't seen her since then?"_

"_No."_

"_That's… insane."_

_He shrugged._

"_Did you go out there or did she come here?"_

"_I went there."_

"_Was it hard?"_

"_Very."_

"_Did the two of you see other people at all? I mean, I know I said before that I've never seen you go out on dates, but did you?"_

"_Yes and no. We both socialized, as you like to call it, but nothing more than that."_

"_Huh."_

"_Yeah."_

"_There was a lot of personal stuff in those letters."_

"_Yes."_

"_And you let me read them."_

"_I wanted you to understand."_

"_So, are you like Richard Gere and she's Julia Roberts?" She smirked._

_He laughed. "Not even close."_

"_Uncle Gabriel and Uncle Jasper know her."_

"_Yes."_

"_Everyone knew but me."_

"_Complicated. Remember?"_

_She nodded. "Dad?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_I'm leaving for college in a year and a half."_

"_Don't remind me."_

_She smiled. "What are you going to do when I'm not around?"_

"_I don't know. Work. The same thing I always do when you're at school or practice. Nothing different."_

"_No. Are you going to wait until then to be with her?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I mean is that what you're planning to do? Once I'm gone then the two of you can be together, right?"_

"_Senna, I told you the reason we're not together like a normal couple might be is not because of you. We both chose this… whatever you want to call it. Neither of us has ever thought that as soon as you're out of the house we can finally be together. I'm sure it looks that way, but it's not. I swear. We agreed a long time ago to let things happen on their own. She lives her life, and I live mine and occasionally they cross over."_

"_Occasionally? How many letters have you written to each other?"_

"_I don't know. Twenty, a thousand. I never counted."_

"_That's more than occasionally."_

"_I suppose it is."_

"_But you love her."_

"_Yes."_

"_Enough to want to marry her."_

_He hesitated. "Yes."_

"_My 4.35 GPA brain is telling me you're an idiot, Dad. This whole thing is crazy – do you know that?"_

_Edward sat back in his chair._

"_Do you think she'd like me?"_

"_Seriously?"_

"_Yeah."_

"_Of course, she would."_

"_Would I like her?"_

_He shrugged again. "Probably. What are you getting at?"_

"_You're getting up there in age," she said. He raised his brow. "Well, you are. I don't think you should waste any more time."_

"_Care to explain?"_

"_Does she make you happy?"_

"_Yes."_

"_Do I?"_

"_What kind of question is that?"_

"_Dad."_

"_Yes, Senna, you make me very, very happy."_

"_Do you have any regrets?"_

_He paused. "I think everything we do leads us to where we're supposed to be. Consequences and rewards."_

"_That's deep."_

"_It's what I think." _

_Senna scooted back into the couch and removed a hair tie from her wrist. She scooped her hair into a pony tail and sat quietly for a moment._

"_Then you should be together."_

"_What about how you felt earlier?"_

_She picked at her nail and shrugged. "I think you should do what makes you happy. I'm not totally okay about what you did, but I guess, I don't know, Dad. Maybe I found that tolerance you were talking about. So you love her, and she loves you, and if how she is in her letters is how she is in real life then she seems pretty okay. I think you should try to work it out."_

"_And what if she doesn't want that?"_

"_If she doesn't then she's as dumb as you are."_

The pounding startled him. Edward quickly lowered his window, and the officer handed his license and registration back to him as well as a two hundred fifty dollar ticket.

"Slow down and pay attention."

"I will. Sorry."

The officer tipped his head toward Edward's phone which buzzed and flashed on the passenger seat. "You might want to answer that _before_ you start driving again."

"Yes, thanks, Officer. Have a good day."

Edward read the message, irritated. "I know this," he said. Choosing to not waste any more time, he tossed his phone back into the seat instead of sending a reply and continued on. The hall was only right around the corner.

When Edward finally arrived, a few people were jogging across the parking lot to escape the rain. He flipped down his visor, and looked into the mirror to quickly straighten his tie. Edward first grabbed his black suit jacket from the backseat and then the yellow envelope. He ran from his car, shuffling into his jacket, the envelope in his teeth and passed several people hugging and talking who were standing underneath the eave.

The foyer was warm and humid; a low buzz of chatter surrounded him. Edward wiped the droplets of rain from the sleeves of his jacket and then ran a hand through his hair. He tucked the envelope into his inside breast pocket as he hurried through one of the doorways. He noted the dozens of empty chairs and breathed a sigh of relief. Edward craned his neck, searching through all the foreign and familiar faces then felt a tug on his sleeve.

"Where've you been?" Gabriel asked. Edward thought he sensed a slight annoyance in his tone. "Why didn't you answer my text?"

"Nothing more than a comedy of errors, and I didn't reply because I was only five minutes away at the time."

"All right then. Come on, let's go sit down."

Gabriel led Edward down an aisle. Edward spotted the back of Jasper's head, and peering over Jasper's shoulder was his and Gabriel's adopted five-year-old son, Samuel. Next to Jasper sat Leah, her husband, and their daughter Emily.

When she turned, he smiled.

Edward always smiled when he saw Bella. He'd still not been able to get over the small twinges in his stomach or how his heart beat just a little faster whenever they came together.

_Bella,_

_Have you ever had one of those moments when you realized that life is just too short? When everything suddenly becomes crystal clear and that all of your insecurities and fears seem so utterly insignificant? I was recently given a push in that direction by a very unexpected source._

_I love you. I love you with everything I am, and I don't want to wait for the start of us any more. Be with me. Tell your head to be quiet, and this time, listen to your heart. I love you. I'll tell you a million times over and for the rest of my life. We can do this, and deep down you know I'm right. We've both sacrificed and have paid for mistakes that were and were not the result of our faults. We agreed long ago to being apart and pretended these teases of letters and emails and phone calls would be enough. I don't want to be placated any longer. We deserve this; we deserve to be happy together, and I want to be able to actually see the smile on your face when you are. I'm not asking you to marry me again, at least not right now. But just know that if you wanted to fly to Vegas, I'm game. There's no reason for secrets any longer, and I will explain why another time, but for now, all I want is you. You're all I've ever wanted. _

_I'm tired of going to bed without you every night – you're supposed to be there next to me. I want to touch you and for you to touch me. I want to kiss you and argue with you and then spend the entire night making up. I can't promise you perfection, but I want to try. So, I'll ask again, be with me._

_I love you, but don't write back so that I'll have to read that you love me, too. I already know; I've never doubted it. Instead, would you please open your door so I can see your beautiful face when you say it? _

_Love you always,_

_Edward _

_p.s. It's a little chilly out here, could you hurry up?_

_Edward's fingers were woven together as he hung onto the back of his neck; he paced small circles around her porch. He spun around, dropping his hands to his sides at the sound of her door opening. She held his letter in her hand; her expression hovered between shock and elation. _

"_How did you…"_

"_I waited for the mailman to show up, put the letter in your box as soon as he left, and waited for you to get home."_

"_Where?"_

_He pointed toward a dark blue, nondescript car parked across the street. "In the rental." _

_She nodded. "How long did you have to wait?"_

"_Too long."_

_She smiled, and then she laughed. _

_Edward walked forward and stepped up onto the threshold. He was so close he could feel her breath on his skin; she smelled like flowers and coffee. He wondered what she'd taste like, and if it would be familiar or new. "So?" he whispered. _

"_I love you."_

_He grinned. "And?"_

"_I want you to be with _me_." _

_Edward leaned in to kiss her, and it was both new and familiar. He couldn't wait to reacquaint himself with every inch of her all over again. They stood in the doorway wordlessly saying hello through kisses and touches, gentle strokes of tongues and light brushes of fingertips through hair and on skin. She felt the same to him: warm and soft, but she tasted so much better. _

_He walked her back, shutting the door behind him with one hand, still holding on to her with the other. "I missed these," he said, kissing the lids of her eyes. "And this." He kissed the tip of her nose. Edward continued his slow cadence of admittance and touching and tasting; he found he was blissful, simply enjoying the here and now with her – he had their lifetime for everything else._

"It's about time you got here," Bella teased. "Senna would have had your head on a platter if she knew you were late."

Edward kissed her cheek and rested his hand on her knee. "I know, but she's too busy lining up with the other graduates, and I'm sure she and Jess are on nostalgia overload right about now." He said hello to his mother and father who were sitting a few seats down, and as an afterthought he said, "But don't tell her."

Bella rolled her eyes.

"So did our salutatorian finish her speech last night?" Jasper asked, leaning toward them while Gabriel and Samuel played his favorite new game: rock, paper, scissors.

"About two this morning," Bella answered.

Edward nodded in agreement. He scanned the crowd, and then happened to lock eyes with Gwen. She and her husband were two rows in front of them. They acknowledged each other pleasantly, and she turned back around. For the sake of Senna, they'd come to an agreement a year prior: Gwen would say nothing derogatory about Bella, and Bella wouldn't scratch out her eyes.

_Pomp and Circumstance_ began to play, and Edward swallowed down the lump in his throat as he watched Senna march with the other graduates down the center aisle. He'd never imagined he could be any more proud than he was in this moment. It both saddened and delighted him seeing her in her navy cap and gown, the gold and green cords draped from her neck, and he thought how grown up she really was.

The whistles and applause were nearly deafening by the time the graduates completed their march, a select few seated on the stage, Senna among them. The headmaster took to the podium to begin the ceremony.

Bella watched Edward as he and Senna exchanged smiles. She was incredibly in love with everything about him: his strength and his passion and even his weaknesses. When times weren't perfect, she reminded herself that Edward never promised perfection, but that he'd wanted to try, and together they did.

Senna looked toward Bella, and the two shared a smile as well. Bella added a small wave.

She never thought this would be her life, one in which she was surrounded by people she loved who loved her just the same. And after everything Bella had been through, the pain, the happiness, the fears, and the certainties, she discovered her strength. Bella found honesty and happiness with Edward, and he found it with her.

_The End_

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A/N: Thank you so very much for reading. The reviews throughout this story have been amazing, and so much more than I ever expected. There are some really wonderful people in this fandom.

My betas and pre-readers have also been really incredible as well. Askthemagic8ball, sncmom, and katinki are smart, wonderful women and it's pretty awesome to say they're my friends, too. (they're probably rolling their eyes at me, but I don't really care. lol)

Finally, I'm writing a side shot of Jasper and Gabriel for Fandom for Sexual Assault Awareness. It's a highly worthy cause, and I hope you'll consider donating at least the minimum amount of five dollars. You'll receive a compilation of one shots, outtakes, etc. from over ninety authors. More information can be found here: http:/fandom4saa . wordpress . com/

All my best

~T


	9. outtake

This is an outtake from the last chapter 8 I wrote for Dirty Cheeky Monkeys (Thank you, chartwilightmom!). It's when Edward and Bella _finally_ got together after the ten years they were apart.

Every Wednesday they post lemons from various authors for Squeeze My Lemon. You can find the fanfiction page here: http:/www . fanfiction . net/u/2258597/dirtycheekymonkeys and the blog here: www . dirtycheekymonkeys . blogspot . com So, if you want to read a variety of lemons or write one yourself, please check them out.

Thanks to askthemagic8ball, sncmom, and yoga00cat for beta'ing and prereading!

* * *

_Bella,_

_Have you ever had one of those moments when you realized that life is just too short? When everything suddenly becomes crystal clear and that all of your insecurities and fears seem so utterly insignificant? I was recently given a push in that direction by a very unexpected source._

_I love you. I love you with everything I am, and I don't want to wait for the start of us any more. Be with me. Tell your head to be quiet, and this time, listen to your heart. I love you. I'll tell you a million times over and for the rest of my life. We can do this, and deep down you know I'm right. We've both sacrificed and have paid for mistakes that were and were not the result of our faults. We agreed long ago to being apart and pretended these teases of letters and emails and phone calls would be enough. I don't want to be placated any longer. We deserve this; we deserve to be happy together, and I want to be able to actually see the smile on your face when you are. I'm not asking you to marry me again, at least not right now. But just know that if you wanted to fly to Vegas, I'm game. There's no reason for secrets any longer, and I will explain why another time, but for now, all I want is you. You're all I've ever wanted. _

_I'm tired of going to bed without you every night – you're supposed to be there next to me. I want to touch you and for you to touch me. I want to kiss you and argue with you and then spend the entire night making up. I can't promise you perfection, but I want to try. So, I'll ask again, be with me._

_I love you, but don't write back so that I'll have to read that you love me, too. I already know; I've never doubted it. Instead, would you please open your door so I can see your beautiful face when you say it? _

_Love you always,_

_Edward _

_p.s. It's a little chilly out here; could you hurry up?_

Edward's fingers were woven together as he hung onto the back of his neck; he paced small circles around her porch. He spun around, dropping his hands to his sides at the sound of her door opening. She held his letter in her hand; her expression hovered between shock and elation.

"How did you…"

"I waited for the mailman to show up, put the letter in your box as soon as he left, and waited for you to get home."

"Where?"

He pointed toward a dark blue, nondescript car parked across the street. "In the rental."

She nodded. "How long did you have to wait?"

"Too long."

She smiled, and then she laughed.

Edward walked forward and stepped up onto the threshold. He was so close he could feel her breath on his skin; she smelled like flowers and coffee. He wondered what she'd taste like, and if it would be familiar or new. "So?" he whispered.

"I love you."

He grinned. "And?"

"I want you to be with _me_."

Edward leaned in to kiss her, and it was both new and familiar. He couldn't wait to reacquaint himself with every inch of her all over again. They stood in the doorway wordlessly saying hello through kisses and touches, gentle strokes of tongues and light brushes of fingertips through hair and on skin. She felt the same to him: warm and soft, but she tasted so much better.

He walked her back, shutting the door behind him with one hand, still holding on to her with the other. "I missed these," he said, kissing the lids of her eyes. "And this." He kissed the tip of her nose. Edward continued his slow cadence of admittance and touching and tasting; he found he was blissful, simply enjoying the here and now with her – he had their lifetime for everything else.

Edward's eyes traveled over her hair and face; it was hard for him to believe he was standing here with her, touching and holding her, and his heart raced.

"This is so surreal," she said quietly, barely able to contain her grin. Still, Bella was a cacophony of nerves and glee and hope and trepidation. "Edward, I… how will we…"

"Shhh.'" He kissed her cheeks and her lips. "You and I are supposed to be together, Bella," he whispered. "We'll figure it out."

She smiled widely; Edward wiped away a damp trail from her cheek. From the corner of his eye, he saw a picture of the two of them in Paris sitting on her side table. He beamed like a little boy who'd just been given a handful of candy he'd always been denied.

Bella took his hand and led him to the couch. She couldn't stop looking at him, the subtle changes in his face, a couple of extra lines at the corners of his eyes, a few strands of gray hair just above his ears. He looked older, mature, but beautiful nonetheless. Bella had the urge to pinch him, or pinch herself; she still felt as though this was just a dream. She shook her head, and a small, nervous giggle erupted from her throat.

Edward, in turn, began to chuckle as well and cocked his head. "You're staring at me."

"I think I'm in shock," she admitted. "The letter, you on my front porch. You're sitting on my couch and holding my hand." She paused for a moment. "Everything's going to change."

Edward inched closer. "But that's a good thing, right?"

She answered by nodding her head emphatically. "Yes, it's a very good thing… Wait, how long are you here? You're not leaving tomorrow, are you?"

"No, no. I'm here for a week. The rest we can just figure out later."

"An entire week?" she repeated happily.

"Yeah, I reserved a hotel room just in case you were reluctant or needed time to think about my letter and my being here."

"So, you'd still stay even if I didn't want you to? Which, by the way, would never have happened in a million years."

He grinned. "I had a back-up plan." She raised her eyebrows, urging him to continue. He smirked. "I'm not above stalking – I'd show up at your job, send you gifts, sit on your front porch. Hell, I'd sleep there if I had to."

"Would you?"

"Oh, yeah. I have a blanket and pillow packed in the car," he said, then bit his lower lip.

Bella continued to play along, but it was hard – the back and forth – because all she wanted to do was grab him and kiss him again and again.

"So, why make reservations at a hotel? I mean, if you'd planned to sleep outside my door, why waste the money?"

"For the shower. I'm not a dirty stalker, and if I asked to use yours then you might think I was a little creepy."

"You're insane."

"No," he said. "Insanity was staying away from you all this time."

She flushed. "Will you still say things like that to me when I'm ninety?"

"Until you're a hundred and ninety."

"Then you're going to get lucky an awful lot for a very long time… What's the name of the hotel?"

"The Hilton. Why?"

"Because I'm calling them to cancel your reservation. Go get your things."

Their nerves calmed somewhat as the hours passed, and even though they'd exchanged letters and emails and telephone calls over the years - never truly being strangers to each other - Bella and Edward still regarded one another cautiously. She wanted to skip this part and jump right into the comfort that came from being with someone for a long time. Yet, admittedly, she enjoyed the butterflies she felt in her belly and the tingles that crept along her skin when his hand inadvertently brushed against hers.

Later that evening, they ate dinner together. She cooked the last two chicken breasts she'd had in her freezer and boiled some pasta for a side. Clearly, she hadn't expected company and made do; Edward didn't mind. After dinner, Bella showed Edward the gray and white box where she'd kept his letters. Some were more worn than others, and Edward asked how many times she'd read those in particular. She simply answered, "A lot."

Misty rain began to fall which soon turned into a steady downpour. Edward opened the back door; smells of earth and honeysuckle and April wafted in. He inhaled deeply and commented how easy it was to breathe here compared to the city. Rain splattered against the cement and pinged against the gutters. Edward held his hand out to wet it then tasted the tip of his finger. He thought it even tasted cleaner, or perhaps that was only because he was with Bella and everything was just better.

They sat next to each other, sinking lazily into her couch. Their fingers and legs were intertwined, and Bella rested her head on Edward's shoulder. They made small talk, but it was much more than filling time with simple chatter; they were getting to know each other again.

Edward yawned audibly. It was close to midnight.

"It's late," she said. "Do you want to go to sleep?"

He considered the word "sleep" for a moment. He quickly rid his mind of that thought not wanting to push her. "Can I take a shower first?"

"Of course," she said and showed him where the linen closet was located, pulling out an oversized, beige towel.

He didn't ask for her to join him, but he wondered, well, hoped she would. _Too soon_, he chided.

Bella paced her bedroom, gnawing at her thumbnail. She opened and closed the same two drawers three times, deliberating between silk and cotton. She guessed she had ten, maybe fifteen minutes to decide how she should dress for bed. Her debate between obvious effort or casual comfort was cut short by the sudden cease of the shower. Moments later, Edward emerged from her bathroom wearing plain blue pajama bottoms and a white tee shirt, scrubbing his wet hair with a towel.

_Casual comfort it is_, she thought.

Edward smiled, the towel hanging from his neck, and approached Bella. "I like your soap," he said and leaned down to kiss her.

She laughed. "I'm glad… I think I'm going to hop in the shower now," she said and nodded toward the bed. "The remote is on the nightstand if you want to watch TV, but I won't be long."

He tugged at the hem of her shirt. "Take your time."

In the shower, she shaved her legs twice and dropped her razor as many times. She laughed at herself for being so anxious, and she reminded herself they hadn't been together in years. In fact, she hadn't been with anyone but Edward in over a decade. However, it was so very different now. _Breathe, Bella_. The water began to cool, and she quickly turned it off.

Bella had taken another fifteen minutes or so brushing her teeth, combing and drying her hair, and moisturizing her skin before finally leaving the bathroom. The butterflies multiplied in her belly as she looked at Edward sitting on the edge of her bed, flipping through a book.

He looked up at her and set the book on her nightstand. Edward reached out his hand. "C'mere you."

She walked toward him, forcing her shaky legs steady. Her heart was in her throat; Bella couldn't understand why she was so anxious to be with him. She was head over heels in love with him - she'd been with him countless times – so why the fear?

Bella stood between his legs, her hands on his shoulders. Edward dragged the tips of his fingers up the outside of her bare legs, scarcely raising the hem of her boxer shorts up higher on her thigh. He laid one hand on her hip and with the other he lifted at her tee shirt, exposing an inch of her skin. Edward pressed his mouth to her stomach, kissing her just above her navel.

"You smell nice," he murmured against her; Bella's body reacted on its own, her hips moving forward and her fingers weaving into his hair.

"So do you," she answered.

Edward tilted his head back, and she smiled down at him as she lightly scratched his scalp. Her legs had stopped shaking, and her heart had found its place back in her chest, but it still thumped wildly.

He continued to stare up at her. "What?" she asked, grinning.

"I'm…" He hesitated and moved his hands to the backs of her thighs; Edward huffed a laugh then took a deep breath. "Here's the thing… I'm going to ask you to leave your home and come back with me, and I'm going to ask you to quit your job and start all over again… with me. I can't leave my life right now, and I'm asking you to leave yours. I know I said we'd figure this out later. You said everything was going to change for the better, but Bella, I'm asking for a lot."

"It's what I want."

"You're sure?"

"Mmhm." She nodded.

"Good," he said. "Because I can't leave here again like I did five years ago - not now that I've had a taste of you. Before the plane, on the plane, even when I first walked into your house, the idea of you and I finally being together was so much easier; it was infallible in my mind… The reality is I just can't live without you any more."

Bella stepped back, and Edward rose from her bed. "That's not going to happen, promise. You're risking a lot by asking me to give up everything," she said. "But you've got it backward; I'm not giving up anything because I get you." She led him to the bed and pulled down the white duvet. "I've been thinking all day about what I would make you for breakfast tomorrow morning… and every day after."

He smiled, and they climbed into bed together. Her back to his chest, they molded together completely. "I love you, Bella," he said, kissing the back of her shoulder.

"I love you, too," she said and kissed the tips of his fingers.

She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but neither had the desire to rush things. He worried, just for a second, if he'd be able to satisfy her. It was silly, he thought, but he couldn't get rid of the underlying pressure he felt to be perfect for her. Coincidentally, she wondered if she'd be able to satisfy him.

Bella felt his erection pressing against her lower back; she bit her lip to keep from smiling and glided her nails lightly along his forearm. As Edward traced invisible patterns of curved lines over her ear and hairline, Bella relaxed further into her pillow. Their breathing eventually slowed, and Edward soon fell asleep with his nose and mouth against her hair. She fell asleep as well, lightly gripping his arm.

A few hours of dreamless and sound sleep had passed before Bella stirred. She awoke feeling too warm, almost hot, until she realized it was because Edward was in her bed. She rolled over so that she was face to face with him. His cheeks and chin were covered with early morning stubble which tickled her hand. Bella rubbed her thumb along his bottom lip as she watched him sleep. He was peaceful and beautiful, and she swore she'd do this more often.

Bella moved closer and kissed him softly on his mouth. He didn't move; she couldn't help herself and kissed him again. Edward's eyes fluttered open, and Bella stilled. They stared at each other for moments, and she touched his lips again. Edward rolled her to her back, positioning himself between her legs.

They were silent; they didn't need to speak, they just felt.

He kissed her slowly, wanting and needing without urgency, savoring every touch and every breath. Bella wrapped her ankles around his calves, and he pressed his hips against her. She broke their kiss to remove her shirt; he helped slide it off her arms, and then she helped him with his.

Edward moved lower, kissing her neck, along her collarbone, down her chest and sucked her nipple into his mouth. Bella arched her back and held his hand under hers as he circled his fingers over her other nipple. They moved their bodies together naturally, instinctively, as if they'd never been apart at all.

He slipped down further, trailing wet kisses on her stomach. Edward hooked his fingers into the waistband of her boxers and panties, pulling them down her thighs, over her knees, sliding them off her feet. He tossed them on the floor and then undressed himself completely.

As he lay back on top of her, she molded her body to his, wrapping her thighs around his waist. She gripped his back with one hand, tangling her fingers in his hair with the other. His skin smelled faintly of her soap, but it was him, his scent of really nothing in particular, it was just Edward who made her feel like she was finally whole.

Edward slid into her and circled and ground his hips slowly. She felt the muscles in his back constrict and flex, and she raised her hips to meet his.

He pressed his forehead against hers. "I love you," she said. She missed this, the intimacy and passion, and until now, she hadn't realized just how much.

"I love you, too," he said.

Edward pushed himself into her as deep as he could, once then twice, and Bella dug her nails into his back almost painfully. He touched his lips to hers, tasting her tongue, and losing himself completely. He'd waited for her for so long, too long, and he was certain that this time he'd never lose her again.

Bella's every muscle tightened, and she squeezed herself around his cock. Her body quaked and trembled, she came hard as she rasped out his name.

The sounds of her moans and the sweet sensation of her climax nearly sent Edward over the edge. He plunged himself into her again, but faster and harder until he, too, came. He kissed her again, pulsating inside her. "I want this… I want you… every day," he said between kisses.

"Me too."

For the remainder of the week, they made up for lost time in her bed, her shower, her couch… any flat or even not-so-flat surface. A month later a "Sold" sign was hammered into Bella's front yard, and she moved back to be with Edward, to where she was always supposed to be.

* * *

a/n: Don't forget to donate to Fandom4SAA to get a side shot of Jasper and Gabriel along with over 100 other contributions! Go to www . fandom4saa . wordpress . com to donate - it's only five dollars.

Thanks for reading.


	10. Fandom4SAA outtake: Stargazing

**This outtake was written for the Fandom 4 Sexual Assault Awareness Compilation. Thanks to all who donated—over $10,000 was raised! **

**Through Jasper's POV, this takes place when he and Gabriel decided to adopt their son. It starts about seven years prior to the end of Red. There is angst.**

**Huge thanks to my beta and prereaders Askthemagic8ball, sncmom, and Morethanmyself. Also, thanks MyCrookedSmile for planting the seed for a Jasriel outtake in the first place.**

* * *

**Stargazing**

I sit next to you in our bed before we go to sleep. It's our nightly routine: you read crap fiction while I either make notes for tomorrow's presentation or flip through a magazine. Our nights are typically quiet except, of course, on the nights we are not.

I watch the side of your mouth lift slightly and know you've just read something that's amused you; you're in your own world right now. Did you realize you tug at your earlobe when something puzzles you? I wonder. You've done this twice while reading tonight. I peek at the dark cover of the novel; it's clearly a murder mystery. The picture of a smoking gun and splatter of blood on an ordinary brick wall have given that much away. You're a brilliant doctor, treating the human psyche every day, yet you choose to get lost in simplicity. It's a diversion, I know, but I love that this is your guilty pleasure. I'm not sure why I do because it's irrelevant to anything really. Maybe it's because I'm the only one on the planet who knows this about you and wouldn't care what form of escapism you chose.

Still, you're so involved in this book you're reading you don't notice me tapping my pen against my pad. I'm not doing it to gain your attention; it's simply what I do when I try to get back to my train of thought. I wonder if you know this about me and choose to say nothing just as I do about your habits. Even after all this time together, it's funny to me that I've never questioned these little things before.

I should tell you how happy you make me more often.

You shift, pulling the covers with you. "Sorry," you say, barely glancing toward me and rest your arm above your head as you scoot further down in bed. I don't take your action as being dismissive; you're one of the kindest men I've ever known. But you worry too much.

The newly gray strands of hair and deep crinkles at the corners of your eyes stem from that incessant need of yours to blame yourself. I understand, I do… but I wish you wouldn't be so hard on yourself. We've talked about Leah and Bella so many times, and how you think you've failed them both. You haven't. But you're not perfect either.

"My own flesh and blood, Jasper," you had said. "Sure, she said she forgives me, but I just don't know." I'd told you to give it time, that you couldn't see the way she looked at you like I could, and that yes, she loves you. And then poor Bella_. Poor you_. "How could I have been so stupid!" you had yelled that night. "How did I miss it? She was so happy; they were so happy, and I let myself get too close, too personally involved. All I saw was her happiness, and I missed it." But then you had spoken to her after she'd left – she'd called you. Bella had explained her reasons for leaving, that she'd needed to figure out who she was on her own. In the end, you had known it was the right decision regardless of the cause. It wasn't your fault.

You are getting better at accepting, though. I silently laugh at the irony of the thought, considering you're a shrink by trade. You're not so cautious when we're with Leah anymore. I see the way your eyes light up when she drops off Emily for us to babysit, and I wonder if it's too late for us.

I've been thinking about it a lot lately.

I drop my pad and pen to the floor beside me and turn to face you, propping my head up with my hand. You side-glance me then lay your book on your chest, and as you turn your head to face me, you give me one of those looks. It's the one where you raise both eyebrows and purse your lips… You know I want to talk.

There's never been a need to prompt me. I've never been afraid or wary to tell you what's on my mind – it's how it's always been with us.

Except this time I am.

"I was thinking," I say.

"Oh, that can't be good." You smile, teasing me, but you roll to your side to give me your full attention. I take your hand to hold between us, and I think I do this more for my sake than yours – security maybe? "Everything all right?"

"Yeah, yeah." I take a deep breath, and hope to god you don't freak out. "Gabriel… what do you think about us expanding our family?"

"What are you talking about?" There's laughter in your voice. "Expand? Like how? An animal? Do you want to get a dog, Jasper?" you ask. "I don't know… Our schedules. Maybe. Big or small?"

You're so clueless sometimes it amazes me. But I laugh. You make me laugh.

"No, not a dog… I want a baby."

* * *

**Day 1**

"I'm a grandfather, Jasper!" Gabriel paces in front of me. He's struggling with this; it's evident.

"Yes. You're a wonderful grandfather _and_ father, Gabriel. Any child would be lucky to have you in his or her life."

"I'm too old. _You're_ too old."

"Be nice."

"You know what I mean."

**Day 4**

"How?" he asks. "Surrogate? Adoption?"

It's morning. We're sitting at the kitchen table after a long night of restless sleep. "I've done some research, and although both options would be a potential risk for us…" The idea of someone changing their mind scares the hell out of me, but right now I'm too afraid to give him another reason to not want to do this. "I think adoption. There are lawyers who specialize in this."

"I know that," he snaps.

My God this man is a bear when he doesn't get enough sleep. Still, I'm pissed. For four days he's done nothing but brood around the house, complaining about this and that, and he's been brusque, annoyingly so. I've tried to be patient, but I'll be damned if he gets to behave like this without even trying to understand my side. "You know what, Gabriel? I've had enough. The least you could do would be to consider my feelings about this, but no, instead you're acting like an ass. I want a child. I want a daughter or son who I can love and raise into adulthood… with you. I don't care how old we are. I don't care that we're a couple of queers who will get shit stares from ignorant people… we already do. It's just the way it is.

"Look, I want this. For us. And it's not that I think we need a baby to help our relationship – we don't. It's because the two of us together would make amazing parents." We're both quiet for a few moments. I take a sip of my coffee. "Can't you imagine toy trucks scattered all over the floor or our home looking like a _Barbie_ factory?"

Gabriel chuckles, and I reach over to rub his knee. He squeezes the back of his neck, and then, suddenly, his face drops. His expression is stone, determined, and he shakes his head slightly. For him, this conversation is over.

My chair slams to the floor as I stand; I've hit my thigh against the table in a rush to get as far away from him as possible. The table rocks then slides a few inches. Coffee has spilled over the side of my mug. His glass has tipped and rolled off the table. Shattered glass sits among a puddle of orange juice. Good. I don't give a shit. "Fuck you."

"Wait! Jasper!" Gabriel yells as I leave the room. My skin is hot with anger; I don't want to talk to him, nor do I want to hear a lame excuse. We've never had problems communicating. Ever. Before I reach the front door, his hand is on my shoulder, forcing me to stop. "There's something I need to explain."

**Day 7**

We're in Dr. Cullen's waiting room.

"I still can't believe you didn't tell me," I whisper. "If he has bad news, I'm going to kill you."

Gabriel offers a pitiful smile. "It was the same day you said you wanted to have a baby. I wanted to wait for the results; I told you."

"Tell me again." I'm so damn nervous.

"A mole on my forearm; I didn't think anything of it. When I had my check-up that morning, Carlisle saw it, said he didn't like the looks of it. He removed it and sent it off to the lab."

"But he didn't say anything else, right? Carlisle didn't say it looked really bad or make one of those faces which tells you, undeniably, that things are not good?" I look down at the floor. Not cancer, please. "You said the Band-Aid on your arm was from hitting it against the corner of your desk."

Gabriel sighs exasperatedly. We've been over this about a million times over the last three days. "No, he gave me no indication of anything like that… This is why I didn't say anything – you worry too much. And then you brought up having a baby, and I got scared. All sorts of horrible thoughts went through my mind. The idea of leaving you _and_ our child… It was just a mole."

"Dr. Reyes?" The receptionist announces. She's short and plump and has fiery red hair. Vicky is the kind of person who could make you forget for a moment you've just received a death sentence because her kindness is boundless; I pray we won't need her kindness. "You can come back now."

We're seated across from Carlisle in his office. It reminds me of a library: all dark wood and dark green. He even has a library lamp sitting on the corner of his desk. Behind him hangs a small painting of a landscape: snowcapped mountains. I stare at a black brushstroke I believe to be an eagle in mid-flight.

"Good news," Carlisle says. "The results came back negative; the mole was benign."

Collectively, Gabriel and I let out a sigh of relief.

"You could have just called me with the news, Carlisle," he says, wryly, smiling. "I thought colleagues were given preferential treatment."

"Yes," Carlisle says, "and doctors also make the worst patients. I'm sorry I didn't say anything over the phone, but there's a little more." He leans toward us, clasping his hands together the way all doctors seem to do when they're about to get serious. Dammit. My line of vision shifts back to the eagle. "I'm concerned about your triglyceride level. You're sitting at one-ninety-three – that's borderline high. You need to be no higher than one-fifty, Gabriel."

Gabriel's grandfather died of a heart attack at seventy-two, but other than that, his family history is good, so this news comes as a bit of a surprise. Carlisle has given us a quick tutorial on all things cholesterol, and an hour later, we leave his office. In my hand are a few pamphlets explaining the dos and don'ts and the whats and whatnots of fats. Looks like we're starting a new diet tomorrow.

It could have been so much worse.

**Day 19**

On the menu tonight is grilled chicken with a side of asparagus – no butter. Bland but healthy. We've adjusted to our new, healthier lifestyle fairly easily, and Gabriel seems to have enjoyed concocting new recipes, too. Some people might bitch and moan about what they miss, but not Gabriel. I've always liked that about him.

We're also having wine. Actually, always wine. Especially lately since it seems everywhere I go I see mothers and fathers with their children. Infants and toddlers have taken over my dreams both as I sleep and during my waking hours. I might be on the verge of obsession. Just last week I was in Dallas for a meeting with a middle management team for American Airlines. We broke for lunch and instead of making small talk about the weather or listening to suggestions of decent restaurants to have dinner that night, as what normally happens, I found myself in deep discussion with Irina, American's Human Resources Director. We chatted about baby formula: powder versus liquid and which brand was best. Her daughter, Tanya, is turning one in two months. Apparently, Tanya loves _The Wiggles_, a horrible, grating on your last nerve kids' show, according to Irina. While she cringed, I thought about buying a big screen television.

The good news is that Gabriel and I have been talking, almost ad nauseam, about the possibility of adoption: our lives changing, diapers, schools, what kind of parents we'd want to be together. I caught him smiling when he was looking through photographs of Leah this morning. The great news is that we've made an appointment with an attorney.

**Day 33**

Gabriel's chest glides against mine, both of us slick with sweat. "I love you," he mumbles against my mouth. His cock is hard in my hand; he strokes mine with his.

"I love you, too."

We're all tongues, lips, and teeth, licking and nibbling until he starts to slide down. Gabriel kisses my neck then sucks and bites my nipple. He continues down until I'm completely inside his mouth. My knees are raised, my hands hold the sides of his head – it's fucking heaven. Gabriel digs his fingers into my thigh, he squeezes my balls, and, oh, fuck, I look down at him just as he looks up at me. He's getting himself off while sucking me, and I want to come so damn bad. But even more, I want him to come in my mouth.

I lift his head and begin to move. Soon, we're on our sides, grasping each other's asses, pumping our dicks into each other's mouths. He scratches my upper thigh, hard, and I groan. My noises turn him on; they always have. He rolls us so he's on top. He's in control; this is what he likes - complete control. He teases me with his dick as he sucks only the head of mine. _Bastard_. I grab him, leading him to my mouth and tickle his slit with the tip of my tongue. He takes me all the way in and lowers himself so that I can do the same.

_Fuck me. I want to fuck you. Fuck me._

I come then he comes. A little while later, we stand in our bathroom, waiting for the water in the shower to heat. I fuck him as he braces himself against the vanity. It's raw and fast and hard; I come quickly. I lean my forehead against the back of his shoulder; Gabriel reaches around, his fingers thread through my hair. My heart pounds and I'm out of breath; I want to cry – I'm suddenly overwhelmed.

"I have a good feeling," he says. "Honestly."

Tomorrow we meet with Jacob Black, Attorney at Law.

**Day 35**

"So? How did it go?" Bella asks.

I'm stretched out across our couch, my feet resting on Gabriel's lap, his legs stretched out over the ottoman. We're both exhausted, but there's an air of excitement that buzzes between us.

I shift the phone from one ear to the other. "Besides handing over our entire history, submitting to an intensive background check, and basically offering an invitation for perfect strangers to dissect and judge us? I thought it went well," I say. Bella laughs; she sounds good. "But seriously, Jake, our attorney, is really nice, experienced. The worst thing is that it could take years to find someone who's willing to hand their baby over to us." Gabriel slides his hand underneath my pant leg, rubbing his thumb along my calf, but he continues to stare at the television.

"But it could only take months, too."

"Yes. That would be the best case scenario."

Bella has been gone for two years – two years! – yet we've maintained our friendship, and I'm so, so grateful for that. She's become like a sister to me, and besides Gabriel, she's the only one I've ever completely opened up to about my family. Bella talks to me about Edward; Gabriel never pries - another thing I'm grateful for. If he did, I don't think Bella and I would have been able to have become as close as we are. Edward, on the other hand, well, he doesn't really need to since they've been writing letters back and forth, but he still asks about her occasionally. I hear in her voice how much she loves Edward, and I see it in his eyes. I hope that one day they can be together again. I keep that thought to myself, though. For now, I only listen.

"What's next?" she asks. "How does it work?"

"After we pass the screening process-"

"Which you will with flying colors."

I smile. "Fingers crossed. Then Jake will send out the all-call."

"What do you mean?"

"He'll throw us into the pile of possible candidates to be perused by agencies, other adoption lawyers, et cetera. Jake said our options are broader than some because we have no limitations: race, handicap… nothing, well, except for age. If possible, we'd like a baby, but we won't turn down an older child either. We won't turn anyone down, but Jake said that if we left it wide open that, in the beginning anyway, it may not look good in the eyes of the birth parents. I don't know… he comes highly recommended so I guess we'll have to trust him. And the fact that he's helped gay couples before gives us hope."

"I have hope for you. The two of you will make great dads."

"Thanks, sweetie." I hear a double ping in the background. "Dinner ready? Need to go?"

"No. I'm sitting in front of my laptop. Edward just messaged me." There's a sereneness to her voice now that wasn't there before.

"How's that going?"

"Slow. We've only just moved past the letters to speaking on the phone and emailing."

"Slow is good, right?" I ask, hoping it won't be that way for Gabriel and me.

"We'll see." She's so guarded, but I get it.

"Okay, well, don't keep him waiting. I'll talk to you soon. Love you."

"Love you, too."

**Day 142**

Gabriel is seeing a few patients at the hospital today. And I, yet again, am at home. I've cut my travel in hopes to be more available should we get that call from Jake. If, no _when_ (must stay positive) we have a son or daughter, I'll quit my job altogether. We've passed the screening, and on paper we are acceptable candidates. Thank God. We've waited through the probationary period, and now we get to wait some more.

The tarp is spread across the floor, the corners and baseboards taped, and the furniture is covered. I hope Gabriel likes this shade of brown for our bedroom.

I've gotten very good at waiting.

**Day 189**

"I'm so sorry," Gabriel says, but he's as disappointed as I am.

Jake called this morning and told us the girl, Maggie, who had to decide between us and two other couples went with one of the others. This open adoption thing is more difficult than what we first imagined it would be. Maggie is eight months pregnant – seven when we met her - sixteen, blonde and blue eyed. The father is blond, too, apparently – we didn't meet him. All I could picture was our daughter with white-blonde hair, huge blue eyes, and rosy cheeks. Gabriel and I slowed as we walked past a display of tiny pink pajamas at Costco the other night. We said nothing and headed toward the seafood section. I wonder if I jinxed us with my thoughts alone.

I shrug. "She wasn't supposed to be our baby."

**Day 226**

"I'm sorry, Jasper," Jake says.

Another "No".

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

"Hang in there, okay?"

"Sure."

**Day 273 & 274**

"You'd think with all of these connections Jake has across the country, we would be just _close_ to being parents by now."

Gabriel folds a corner of a page in his book – I have no idea what he's reading tonight – and sets it on his nightstand. He takes the remote out of my hand and turns off the television. "Jake is doing the best he can for us. We haven't met the right couple yet."

"Well, where the hell are they?"

"Come here," he says. He pulls my face toward his, and after kissing for just moments our clothes are strewn across the floor. We fall asleep sweaty and very satisfied.

I wake to the smell of coffee, cinnamon, and bacon. I know Gabriel isn't cheating on his diet, so he must be up to something.

"Morning."

"Morning." He hands me a mug of coffee.

"What's all this?"

"Breakfast!" Gabriel is way too cheery. He kisses my cheek as he breezes by me, a full plate in each hand.

"Yes, I see that, but why? Have your triglycerides dropped so low you need to give'em a little shock?"

He laughs. "No, no. I thought we'd spoil ourselves a little. I've cleared my schedule, and if it's all right with you, I thought we could use a day to ourselves. Clear our heads a bit. Maybe take a drive – hey, how about we go the lake house tonight, yeah?"

I sit across from him at the table; he lifts his eyebrows expectantly. I appreciate his gesture, I do, but there's more going through his head. "A day all to ourselves, huh?"

"Yes, why not."

"Is this for my sake or yours?"

Gabriel picks up a slice of bacon and breaks it in two. "It's for both our sakes. I'd like to take a day off without any talks of babies."

It's true. For the past nine months it's all we've talked about. We've argued, made up, argued more… cried. I don't want this coming between us. "Okay. I think that sounds perfect."

"Who knows," he says with a mouth full of cinnamon roll, "we might get lucky tomorrow."

We didn't.

**Day 393**

Emily, Gabriel's granddaughter, is two today. Her mom, Leah, is throwing a small party at their house, and we've come stacked with gifts. We've always spoiled Emily, but now even more so. Her father, Paul, is tending grill, a last minute decision because it's an oddly warm and sunny day for it being the middle of March. As I peer out the window I see Paul speaking with Edward. The two of them had become business partners soon after Edward gained full custody of Senna.

Gabriel is holding Emily in his arms; she giggles as he blows raspberries on her cheek. She squeals for him to stop, yet she continues to tilt her head so he has full access to do it again and again. She tells Gabriel it's Papa Jas's turn, so I give her my cheek. She's not yet mastered the art of blowing raspberries; I end up with the side of my face covered in Emily spit.

"Uncle Jasper!" Senna yells.

"Senna!" I tease. "Look how tall you are. What are you, like fifteen now?"

She rolls her eyes. "Ten and a half."

"Well, you look much older to me."

"Do I?" Her eyes light up.

"She's already pushing for make-up, don't make matters worse, Uncle Jasper." Edward has a plate piled high with hot dogs and hamburgers; he sets it on the counter.

"Dad!" I laugh at how easily she gets embarrassed.

"I think he just means you're too pretty to wear make-up," Gabriel says. "You don't need all that fancy stuff smeared all over your face."

Senna huffs, her shoulders slump. She's definitely resigned to the fact she's not going to win this battle. "Leah? Can I take Emily outside?"

"Sure, honey, but stay in the back yard."

"'Kay. C'mon, Em." Gabriel puts Emily down; her tiny hand gets lost in Senna's as the two of them walk out the back door.

Gabriel and I share a look, and I can see in his eyes that he's hurting. Even being here among his family doesn't abide the pain he feels now. Over the past thirteen months, it seems as though we continue to take one step forward and two steps back. We've spent thousands of dollars on attorney's fees already. We've spent too much time in the air traveling to meet whom we'd hoped to be the birth parent of our child, yet we're never good enough. I'm tired of losing out to people who might seem as though they'd make better parents than we would. They wouldn't. Gabriel and I have assured each other so many times it's not because we're gay, that in this day and age it would be ridiculous to think that way even though it really could be a possibility. But that wouldn't make sense. We've met these people face to face, they've seen our file, they already knew. So who the hell knows? I can't even begin to count how many times I've gone over our application, searching for something that might seem off, but there's nothing.

Apparently, Leah and Edward could see the sadness in Gabriel's eyes too because, very gingerly, they ask how things have been going with us. We take turns explaining that we're considering going overseas, maybe China or Russia. Edward tells us he might be able to help since he has contacts in the Consulate in Russia. We tell him we'll keep that in mind. We also say we're going to look into surrogacy. Then we tell them that we're going to give it one more year. If nothing happens, we're going to give up and go back to the life we once knew. Neither of them seems to know how to respond.

**Day 475**

The air is thick, almost wet from humidity. Gabriel and I are lying on the chaise lounges on our deck, drinking a beer as we stare up at the sky. There are about a million stars out tonight, and it's as though I'm gazing up at the dome of a planetarium. Everything is so still, so perfectly quiet.

We said we'd give it a year. That was two months ago, and now I'm not sure I want to do that any longer. Gabriel is in this one hundred percent until the end, but I was the one who started it. There's no way I can tell him I'm having doubts. Surely, I can make it through another ten months; I've already started building up that wall. What are a few more bricks?

"See that?" he asks, pointing toward the sky. "Venus. See how bright she is tonight?"

"Mmhm. Incredible." _But unreachable_.

He swings his legs over the side of the lounger and sits up, facing me. Gabriel smiles, the expression on his face strangely confident. "I feel it, Jasper. In my gut, I just feel it. Something good is going to happen."

My heart breaks. I want to share this excitement with him, but I just can't. I do the next best thing and fake it. "You think so?"

"Oh, I really do. I don't know what it is, but I feel like I can breathe, you know? Like my head is clear. It's bizarre. I'm sure I sound like a lunatic." He shakes his empty bottle. "Or a drunk."

I laugh. "No, you don't at all. I understand what you're saying."

"But you don't believe me."

I want to, badly. "I do."

"Hmm. I'm not convinced. Tell me you love me."

"I _love_ you."

"Now see, _that_ was convincing." Gabriel stands then bends down to kiss me. "Don't leave me out here on my own. I need you." I take his hand and hold on to it until he straightens. "I'm going to get another beer," he says.

Gabriel isn't angry. He's only letting me know that he can read me like a book. And he does, very well. Sometimes I hate it, but other times it's convenient. It's not so convenient now.

I wish I had his faith.

I should have listened to him on day one. In the meantime, however, or rather for the next few months, I'll continue to gaze at stars with him and pretend to be excited if Jake calls with another possibility.

**Day 625**

"Hello?"

"Jasper. Hi, it's Jake."

My stomach knots. Part of me wants to tell him I'm not interested in anything he has to say, but of course, I won't. "Hi, Jake. What's up?"

"Can you and Gabriel come in to my office tomorrow? I have a couple who'd like to meet you… A, ah, Carmen Miller and Peter Strasky. They're local, pre-med students."

Local. Perfect. Now when they tell us they've decided to go with someone else maybe we'll run into one of them at Starbucks and make small talk of how the _chosen_ couple is so wonderful. No awkwardness there.

At that stunning visual, I chew the inside of my cheek to prevent myself from saying something sarcastic out loud.

Gabriel has entered the bedroom and warily eyes the expression I'm wearing. "Who is it?" he asks. I mouth "Jake" to him. "Put him on speaker."

"Jake, you're on speaker. Gabriel's here."

"Hey, Gabriel. I was just telling Jasper I have a couple who want to meet the two of you. Are you free tomorrow?"

"What time?"

"One. My office… Listen, guys, they've looked at your application as well as a few others. I don't want to get your hopes up, but you should know you're the only ones they've asked to meet."

* * *

We drove the convertible to Jake's office. I'm not sure why I insisted having the top down. Maybe the fresh air? I was beginning to feel suffocated before we'd even left. Maybe I wanted the distraction of watching the tops of skyscrapers pass by once we got into the city. I don't know. Gabriel asked why I wasn't more excited; he was non-stop chatter. Instead of biting his head off, I said nothing. I'm ruining this for him, and that makes me feel like shit.

We've parked the car on the fourth level of a garage. I ingrain the yellow D-4 painted on the concrete column in my mind so that I will remember the exact location of our car when we leave in a rush after this meeting. I'll drive us home with the top down no matter how cool the air is. I'm going to need that time to collect myself, suit up in my armor, and prepare myself to be supportive of Gabriel when he tells me how he has a good feeling, that this really could be the one.

Gabriel and I have arrived ten minutes before one. We follow Jake's secretary into his office, and sitting in two brown leather chairs are whom I assume to be Carmen and Peter. They're early; I wonder how long they've been here.

Carmen is, well, she's beautiful: black hair, long and sleek, dark skin, deep brown eyes. I zero in on her round stomach; I can't help it. Jake stands to introduce the four of us, and Carmen and I make eye contact. God, she's scared out of her mind. Who can blame her? I imagine I probably look like an ogre in her eyes with all this negativity I've got inside.

Taking a deep breath, I offer her my hand, and I smile, genuinely. She has no idea what we've already been through; it's not her fault. Her grip is strong, her hands are long and slender, and she's tall! Taller than she seemed to be when she was sitting.

Peter shakes my hand. He, too, has a strong grip, and I size him up just as I've done with Carmen. Light brown hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Peter's expression is not as frightened as Carmen's was. He's serious, like he's not about to share what's really going on through his mind. Is this a good or bad thing? Has he made his decision already?

Jake breaks the ice and begins to explain the procedure, the same one Gabriel and I have heard too many times already. Because both parties have agreed to a pre-birth open adoption, we have the option to choose how we'd like our relationship to be. We'll discuss what the others want or expect until the baby is born. Since we've made it this far, the initial meeting, it's because we've both decided once the adoption papers are signed our relationship ends. However, there are some things that are still up for negotiation: how personally involved we might want to be up until the birth, if at all. Of course Jake reiterates that Gabriel and I would be completely financially responsible until Carmen is released from the hospital. Each time I listen to the conditions I feel as though I'm purchasing a new car, and each time I wait for Jake to say something about a warranty. It's awful, I know. Perhaps I'm jaded.

Gabriel has started giving our spiel. He tells them about our interests, our goals for a child, that we're secure with our finances. He talks about his heritage, our house, Leah and Emily, and he tells them that we like to travel, that he believes children should experience culture if given the chance. He's a good salesman.

They nod, smile, inquire. He answers, and then it's my turn.

I tell them about my job, how I've restructured everything to accommodate our venture into adoption, and how I'd stay home until he or she started school, and maybe even after that. I explain that religion is important, but we don't worship every Sunday… or any Sunday for that matter. This is the part where I wait for their reaction, gauge their emphatic beliefs, but they show no signs of disappointment so I continue.

I'm of French, Dutch, and Irish descent, and between Gabriel and I, this child will experience more cultural diversity than your average Joe. I didn't say the last part. Carmen smiles. I relax a little more. She asks about my family, and because I've told this story so many times, it easily rolls off my tongue.

"I really don't speak to my father too much, but my mother and I are close."

"Yeah," she laughs uncomfortably. Peter moves closer to her and picks up her hand. "Sounds like me and my dad. I read you had a sister, but she passed away. I'm sorry," she says.

No one has offered their condolences before. I assumed they all scanned over our information, breezing over the section about siblings: One. Deceased.

"Thank you. It was a long time ago." Gabriel tilts his head, encouraging me to elaborate. I'm hesitant, but I do. "Mary Alice, she was twelve; I was ten. We were very close growing up. She had leukemia. Her death was hard on all of us, especially my father." There's an uncomfortable silence; I shrug. "It was a long time ago."

"I'm sorry," Peter says, and I nod.

"So," Jake starts, looking toward Carmen and Peter. "Would you like to tell them anything about yourselves?"

Peter takes a deep breath. "Um, sure. Well, as you probably already know, Carmen is about twenty-one weeks. The due date is February 19-"

"Only a few weeks into spring term," Carmen interrupts, looking completely lost. Gabriel and I side-glance each other.

Peter chuckles. "Yeah. It's okay, we won't let you get behind," he says, reassuringly, and then turns back to Gabriel and me. "He's healthy-"

"He?" Gabriel and I ask in unison; Carmen gasps, Peter cringes. We've asked not to be informed of the sex initially. It's easier that way.

"I'm so sorry!" Carmen says then slaps Peter's arm. He shoots her an apologetic look for his obvious flub. Jake remains silent. "Yes, it's a boy."

"A boy," Gabriel whispers as he looks toward the floor.

The proverbial pin could be dropped right now, and it would probably sound like a hammer to a wall. I can't stand it, so I ask Peter to continue.

"Okay, um, neither of us have any major medical problems, there's no high risk of anything… Oh! There is my grandfather – he's type two diabetic." Gabriel and I nod. The tone in his voice is as if he's trying very hard to convince us to accept their baby when it really should be the other way around. "Um… we're third year pre-med…"

"What do you want to specialize in?" Gabriel asks. He's perked up just as he always does when a conversation has veered toward his profession.

Carmen shifts a little as though to get more comfortable. "He wants cardio, but I'm going for the big guns: neurology."

"Wow," Gabriel says. "Impressive. What about med school?"

"We want Hopkins," Peter says reverently; Carmen smiles.

"Hopkins is a great school. I went to Cornell myself."

"Come on now, Cornell and Johns Hopkins have nothing on Texas A&M," I tease. I'm not sure at what point in our conversation I forgot to be the cynic I walked in as, but I did. This meeting is very different than the others, and I notice a small spark of hope surfacing. And now, after only knowing this young couple who sit in front of us for less than an hour, I'm not entirely convinced that is a bad thing. Only a little. "How did the two of you meet?" I ask. Carmen explains they've been together since freshmen year which segues into their personal goals and how they're just not ready to have a baby. She says it so simply I wonder how many times she's rehearsed her speech. The look of guilt on her face is heartbreaking as she absently rubs her stomach.

Now that we've all opened ourselves up to each other, time is up. Just like that. Jake tells us to take our time and consider each other carefully. He speaks as though we're children, but I suppose he has to. I've lived through this heartache; I can't imagine how much he's seen.

Gabriel and I are the first to leave, standard protocol. We're silent as we wait for the elevator to reach the floor, but Gabriel is fighting a smile. I nudge him playfully and shake my head.

A boy.

I hate how the heart betrays the mind sometimes because I've conjured up a vision of what this little boy might look like. Will he take more after his gorgeous mother or his humble father? I tried to fight it, but that battle was lost. It's going to be an absolute tragedy if this doesn't work out.

Four days have passed, and Gabriel and I have practiced business as usual. We've said nothing about it, neither of us uttering the names Carmen or Peter. We haven't wondered aloud when the call will come or what that call will entail. And instead of pacing around our house I'm at Best Buy, losing myself in this mini electronic haven while Gabriel is working.

There is a sale on Macs, and I'm talking with one of the salespeople when my phone rings. It's Gabriel.

"Hey," I answer.

"Hi. Where are you right now?"

"Best Buy."

He laughs. "Okay. Look around and take a mental picture."

What? "What? Why?"

"Just do it, Jasper."

"All right," I say, humoring him. "I'm panning the store. There are people wearing blue shirts and khaki pants, computers, televisions, refrigerators, Wiis, Playstations, and XBoxes. How's that?"

"Good enough, I guess. I just wanted you to remember exactly where you were the day you found out we're going to have a baby."

All at once, my knees weaken, my vision blurs, my palms sweat and a lump the size of Ohio has settled in my throat. I barely feel the salesperson grab my elbow; I hear nothing but my blood pulsing in my ears. This lasted a lifetime, a millisecond, and I'm now crying like a baby, _a baby_, in the middle of Best Buy.

"Gabriel," I whisper. "Do not fuck with me."

His laughter sounds like a symphony on a spring morning. "It's true, love. In a few months, you and I are going to have a son."

"Oh my God. Leave work, okay? I'll meet you at home in twenty minutes." He laughs then agrees.

The salesperson is wide-eyed; she looks at me as though she doesn't know whether to console me or call for help. I point to the largest television I see on display. "I'd like to buy that one, please."

* * *

The room is painted a brilliant blue, the crib assembled and sitting against the left wall, the dresser and rocker against the right. A mobile of black and white geometric shapes and spirals hangs over it – Gabriel's idea. Everyone in our family - Leah, Emily, and Paul, Carlisle and Esme, Senna, Edward, and even Bella - have contributed to our future son's room in one way or another. It's the most beautiful room I've ever seen. Our kitchen cabinets have been rearranged, three cabinets dedicated to bottles, toddler sized dishes, and tubs of formula. The entire house has been baby-proofed. Our son has more clothes, stuffed animals, and toys that he won't even begin to think about playing with for another two years that one might think we were about to adopt a colony of children.

Maybe one day.

Until then, we anxiously await the arrival of this one.

Carmen is thirty-eight weeks along. Her ankles, feet, and ass are swollen; she's shared this information on several occasions, and that's fine by me. She's been working hard since spring term started so as not to fall too far behind. Gabriel and I pitch in and help whenever we can: studying, dinners, errands. She and Peter were given special housing at school for this term because of her pregnancy. The fact that Gabriel donated a sizeable amount to their med sciences department might have helped, too. We see Peter and Carmen often, but not too often, each of us keeping some distance from each other. When we were chosen, it was mutually decided after the baby was born that we'd have no contact with each other. However, if the time ever comes for our son to want to meet his birth parents, we'll support him.

Carmen's mother is scheduled to arrive in a few days, but we have no plans to formally meet. Carmen's mom is going to stay with her for a while afterward; her father is not coming at all. She doesn't talk about why.

Gabriel and I have decided on a name, but we haven't told anyone. We're going to wait until he's born and the papers have been signed. It's been killing me to stay quiet and only refer to him as "the baby" because even though he's not here yet, he's still not officially ours. Everything in his room, everything we've purchased can be returned if, God forbid, Carmen changes her mind, but to outwardly acknowledge him by his name and then lose him would be unimaginably painful.

Another week has passed, the anticipation is almost unbearable. Gabriel has said as much because I cannot keep still.

"Jasper," he says, standing in front of the bathroom mirror shaving while I squirt down the shower with cleaner… again. "Will you stop? Go read a book or something. You're driving me crazy."

"I don't think I can focus. It's snowing again; maybe I should shovel the walk." I toss the cleaner under the sink and then walk out of the bathroom.

"If it'll help," he says then mumbles something that sounds like if it gets me out of his hair.

"I heard that!" I yell.

It's bitter cold outside; last night it snowed five inches, and according to the news, it's supposed to snow another three today. I've already shoveled once this morning, so now there is only a dusting blanketing the driveway and sidewalk. I sweep then salt just to be safe. I think I'm in full blown paranoia because I leave our garage door open, too afraid it will freeze shut, and we won't be able to get the car out in case Carmen goes into labor. A ridiculous possibility, yes, but I am not taking any chances.

Hours pass. Gabriel eats lunch while I pick. I might lose ten pounds by the time this is all over. I shovel again – two inches. I cook up a storm for dinner: pot roast, potatoes, vegetables, bread. We'll have leftovers for a few days. Still, I'm not tired. It's not until around eleven that night do I start to feel the effects of constantly moving all day. My eyes begin to feel heavy and my muscles relax, so I toss this week's edition of _Newsweek_ to the floor. I lie in bed next to Gabriel who is reading another murder mystery. I glance over at him, and there he goes, tugging at his earlobe. How can he get lost in a story now when I'm going out of my mind? No matter, I'm beginning to feel sleepy and I scoot down in the bed.

"Good night," I say.

"Night."

I roll over, and as I reach for my lamp, the phone rings.

"Jasper, hi, it's Peter we're at the hospital and her contractions are three minutes apart and I think you should probably come down you know if you want to but it's time." He says in a single breath. He sounds panicked.

"Ohmygod! She's a week early! Okay, okay. We're on our way!"

* * *

Two hours pass. Six hours….

Gabriel and I are on our third cup of coffee.

Seven hours. Nine…

CNN has reported the same news stories so many times, I can practically say their lines verbatim.

Ten hours, thirteen hours…

I wish I was in there with her.

More coffee, but this time with a cherry danish. Jake arrives.

We know Carmen and the baby are fine. One of the nurses has kept us informed the entire time.

Fourteen hours, fifteen...

Sixteen hours. Gabriel is sitting in an orange and beige tweed chair. His head leans back against the wall, and he has his eyes closed. Jake fiddles with his Blackberry.

Seventeen hours.

It's 6:41 p.m. "Mr. Black?" A nurse, tall, thin, wearing pink scrubs with stick figure babies printed all over them waits for Jake to follow her down the hall.

Gabriel and I look at each other. My heart is in my throat. "You okay?" I ask.

"Mmhm. You?"

"Yeah."

We wait, and an hour later Jake comes back, smiling widely. "Follow me."

Jake leads us down a carpeted corridor. We pass a nurses station. This area has a warm feeling; a few potted plants align the beige walls. It's decorated as homey as possible for it being a hospital. Jake opens the door to a small room, and a nurse is sitting in a rocker wearing a pale yellow gown as she feeds the tiny baby in her arms.

She looks up at us and smiles, removing the bottle so we can see his face. My heart speeds, and tears prick my eyes. "Samuel."

"Would you like to hold your son?" she asks. The nurse doesn't give us a chance to answer before she stands, and Jake hands us each a yellow gown.

"I need you to sign some papers," he says. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Seven pounds, twelve ounces, and twenty-one inches," she says as we slide our arms into the gowns. We can only nod.

Gabriel motions for me to sit in the chair. He's offering for me to hold Samuel first, and I think I love him for this gesture more than any other reason I ever have before.

Samuel's eyes are slightly swollen, there's a clear goop spread over them. Concerned, I look toward the nurse. She tells me it's completely normal and the swelling will be gone in a few hours.

"Okay." I really can't say anything else. Samuel whimpers and stretches. He's… amazing. I unwrap his blanket and count his toes. I kiss his fingers and his forehead. I touch his head full of black, curly hair, and I stroke my finger down his arm. After a few more surreal moments, I give him to Gabriel.

"Samuel. That's a nice name," says the nurse. "Does he have a middle name?"

"Yes. It's Brandon, after Jasper's sister, Mary Alice Brandon Whitlock."

I nod.

Gabriel coos at him. He tells him how much we love him, and Samuel sleeps peacefully in his arms. I am in awe.

* * *

After we signed the adoption papers, I asked if I could speak to Carmen.

She's propped up on pillows, and she has a large Coke cup in her hands. I sit in the chair beside her bed. She looks so tired. "I missed this," she says, referring to her soda.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled by an elephant." She smiles. "He's pretty cute, huh?"

"Oh, yeah. That's putting it mildly." I stand up and rub her hand and kiss her cheek. "I wanted you to know… thank you, Carmen." This is so hard. I don't know what else to say or do. I had a speech prepared, yet I can't remember any of what I wanted to say. I don't want to say goodbye to her, but I have to. "You're going to be a great doctor, you know."

She nods, and before I exit the room, she says, "I trust you."

* * *

**Day 1**

I don't sleep the first night we have Samuel home with us. All I can do is gaze at him, awed by him as he stirs, yawns, cries, eats, and sleeps. Gabriel doesn't sleep either, and sooner or later it's going to catch up with us. But for now, I'll take every second I can to become absolutely and wholly entranced by our son.


End file.
